


Everything's fine.

by iamsquashie



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Past Sexual Abuse, Polyamory, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma, bennoda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-03-04 20:26:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 61,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13372443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamsquashie/pseuds/iamsquashie
Summary: Mike decides to swing by Chester's place for a spontaneous visit, and arrives just in time... A disaster is avoided, and relationships are redefined.[Double Bennoda: M/C + wives]





	1. Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LPfiction.com, starting on 16 September 2017.

It was a spontaneous decision. Mike was on his way home, thoroughly looking forward to putting the kids to bed and then crashing in front of the TV with Anna, and watching a silly movie, maybe with a glass of wine and some popcorn — but he found himself turning off towards Chester’s house.

He hadn’t heard from Chester all day and thought he’d drop in to say hello. Surprise him. Make him smile. Chester had been on edge lately, often volatile and upset or downright morose, especially since the tragedy in May. He could always use a bit of cheering up. Mike pulled his car into the driveway of Chester’s new house and made his way over to the door, brushing away the irrational, creeping sense that something wasn’t quite right.

He knocked on the door, and there was no answer. A shiver ran down his spine, but again, he ignored the uneasy feeling and knocked a second time, louder. After a few moments, he heard footsteps on the other side of the door, and then the scraping of a key in the lock. The door opened and there stood Chester, looking tired and pale.

“Hey,” Mike said and stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation. Chester closed the door behind them, but didn’t say anything. He was avoiding Mike’s eyes and moving strangely, fiddling with a thread on his shirt.

“I thought I’d swing by and say hi,” said Mike. “Is everything OK?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chester nodded, and made his way into the kitchen, Mike following close at his heels. “Uh, you want a drink or…?”

He turned and Mike caught his eyes for a moment and saw that they were red and slightly unfocussed. Then he registered the faint smell of whisky.

“Chester, have you been drinking?”

Chester swallowed heavily and his chest began to heave up and down as though he was fighting to keep something inside himself, something that was trying to tear its way out.

“Chester…?”

“Mike, I…” Chester lurched slightly and stumbled, grabbing onto a sideboard to keep his balance. Mike rushed to his side and caught his arm.

“Come, sit down,” he said, gently, guiding Chester towards the living room. “Sit down. It’s OK. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Chester crumpled backwards into the couch and immediately brought both of his hands to his face as his eyes began to fill with tears.

“Chester, what’s wrong?”

It was then that Mike caught sight of the half-empty whisky bottle on the carpet beside the bedroom door, and the belt fixed to the door itself, knotted into a loop on one end.

“Ches…”

“I went into a dark place,” said Chester. “I couldn’t find… couldn’t see… I was going to do something… Mike, I made a decision and it made sense, but then you arrived and… I’m scared of myself.”

Mike realised he himself was crying only when Chester’s face dropped at the sight of it.

“Oh, Mike, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“But Ches, think how much more upset I’d have been if I’d showed up twenty minutes later and found you…”

“I know, but… I didn’t think…”

“You’d be gone, so you wouldn’t have to think. It would be me. It would just be the rest of us. We’d be the ones who’d have to think about it. Forever. For the rest of our lives. Please Ches, we need you. I need you. Please don’t ever think about that again. I’m begging you.”

Chester had crumpled forward into his own lap, sobbing. Mike eased himself down onto the couch beside him and rubbed his back slowly. “What can I do to help?”

Chester shook his head. “There’s nothing you can do, Mike. I’m sick in my head. I can’t switch it off. As soon as I’m alone, I start convincing myself of things and… It’s making me so tired. I just don’t want to deal with it anymore. I don’t want to feel like this. I just want to sleep forever.”

“If you can’t be alone, then I’ll stay with you. I’ll stay as long as you need me to. Forever, if that’s what it takes.”

“You have a wife and kids…”

“So do you, Chester. But I’m here now and I’m staying. And I’m going to get you help.”

“I don’t want help—”

“No, but you need it, and I’m not giving you a choice. Tomorrow, we’re going to start making some changes. OK? Tomorrow. We’re going to sort this out. But for now, maybe you should get some sleep.”

Chester made to stand up, but Mike took his hand and guided him back onto the couch.

“Stay here,” said Mike. “It’s comfortable enough and I’ll be on one of those arm chairs, in case you need me.”

He stood and walked across the room, dimming the lights as Chester slowly and awkwardly lay himself down on the couch. While Chester was distracted, rearranging the cushions and pulling a throw blanket over himself, Mike took the belt from the back of the bedroom door and stuffed it hastily into a wastebin before retrieving the bottle of whisky, setting inside a nearby cabinet and locking the cabinet door.

He fetched two glasses of water from the kitchen and brought them back, setting them on the low table and then settling himself into a big armchair facing Chester on the couch. Chester lay there, his head on a cushion, staring at Mike with glistening eyes full of horror and shame and sadness.

“Mike, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” said Mike. “You just need to be alive. That’s all I need for now, OK? And if you want to tell me anything, get anything off your chest, I’m here.”

“OK,” said Chester, pressing his eyes shut, tears leaking out onto the cushion.

“I love you, Chester,” said Mike. “Please remember that.”

Chester didn’t say anything for several long minutes, keeping his eyes pressed shut, and Mike was just growing accustomed to the stillness and silence when Chester shifted slightly and spoke, his voice cracking.  
“I love you too, Mike,” he said. “Probably not in the way you think I do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I love you as a friend and a brother and a bandmate, but also in a bunch of other ways that I’ve never told you about because it’s not appropriate.”

Mike was silent for a few moments, considering what to say to this. “You can tell me now, if it would make you feel better. I said you could tell me anything.”

“And you promise you won’t leave, even if you don’t like it?”

“Of course I won’t leave.”

Now it was Chester’s turn to be silent. Mike waited, curling his legs up into the armchair and relaxing himself against one of the armrests, head resting on his arm. He could sleep in this position, it was comfortable enough, but his mind was wide awake, waiting for Chester to speak.

“I’ve loved you in lots of different ways since the very beginning,” said Chester, his voice small but distinct in the silence. “I love you as a… a saviour, I guess. The guy who bailed me out of my shitty life. And as a mentor, a teacher, a guide. Bringing out the best in me, even when I’m really difficult. And I love you emotionally and physically and mentally and every other way you can possibly love someone. That’s the truth, really, and it hurts like hell because it can’t be reciprocated and I’ve barely even admitted it to myself before, but there it is. I’m an alcoholic who just fucked up six months of sobriety and now I can’t tell a lie.”

Mike sat in silence, processing Chester’s words.

“Look, Mike, I’m sorry, I—”

“Shh,” Mike interrupted him, and rose from his seat, coming over to crouch on the carpet alongside him. “Don’t say anything. Stop being so hard on yourself. Stop saying sorry for things that you don’t need to be sorry for.”

He lifted his hand and cupped it over Chester’s cheek, wiping the tears away with the pad of his thumb. Chester trembled slightly at the contact and screwed his eyes shut tightly, pressing his lips together, trying hard not to break down. But the silent sobs wracked his body and Mike felt his heart breaking for his friend. He moved onto his knees and put his arms out, gathering Chester into them and folding the smaller man against his chest, stroking one hand over the back of his head the very same way he did when he was trying to soothe one of his crying children.

Chester sobbed hard into Mike’s shoulder, and Mike said nothing, not trying to stop him, just allowing him to cry it out until the tears finally stopped and Chester felt weak, limp and feverishly warm in Mike’s arms. He stayed in that position for some time before tentatively peeling himself away from his friend and sitting back on the couch, looking down into Mike’s face. Mike lifted himself from the floor and took a seat beside Chester, putting an arm around his shoulders and drawing him close.

Chester allowed his head to sink onto Mike’s shoulder and, after some time, his breathing slowed and Mike realised he had fallen asleep. He realised something else too. Although he hadn’t known the extent of Chester’s feelings towards him, he wasn’t surprised by them. They were familiar. The signs had been there, of course, memories that were suddenly cast in a different light after this confession, but it was more than just that. They were familiar because they were feelings he’d had himself; feelings he had suppressed or ignored or explained away by context, proximity, familiarity, friendship and respect. But he knew now, and the thought of how close he’d come to losing Chester, what might’ve happened if he hadn’t decided to drop by, shook him to his core.

Would Chester have gone through with it? He must’ve been feeling bad — very bad — if he’d gone so far as to drink neat spirits after such a long run of sobriety, and then find a belt, and tie it… Mike couldn’t stop himself from shuddering at the thought, and Chester stirred against him.

“Mike,” he mumbled.

Mike couldn’t tell if he was awake or not, so he said nothing and simply pulled Chester closer, enclosing him tightly within his arms. He was safe. It would be OK.

“Mike, you don’t need to do this,” Chester whispered.

So he was awake.

“Do what?”

“Hold me like a baby,” said Chester, the faintest trace of amusement in his soft voice.

“What if I want to?” said Mike.

Chester was silent. “Why do you want to?” he said, after several moments. “Are you worried I might kill myself?”

“Of course I’m worried about that,” said Mike. “You’ve given me enough reason to be worried. But that’s not the only reason I want to do this. I have plenty of reasons.”

“Like what?” said Chester.

“Like… I want you to feel safe. I want you to stop hurting so much. I want to show you that I love you too.”

“You love me too?”

“I always have loved you, Chester,” he said. “I just wasn’t able to admit how much, even to myself, until you…”

“Until I said it to you first?”

“Until I realised I could lose you.”

Chester was silent for a moment.

“Who knows, I might’ve failed at that too, just like I fail at everything…”

“What are you talking about? Why are you being so hard on yourself?”

Chester sniffed and curled himself tightly against Mike. “I don’t know, Mike. It’s like there’s another Chester in my head, telling me these things… and when there’s nobody else around to contradict him, I start believing him and then I…”

Mike shifted, placed a hand at Chester’s jaw and gently lifted his face.

“Look at me, Ches,” he said, and Chester obliged. “You need to stop listening to these bad ideas and start listening to the rest of the world OK? You’re amazing and you always have been and you always will be. And it doesn’t matter what happens in your career or your relationships or anything… That’s not the centre of your identity and your worth. You’re amazing because of who you are as a person, and you need to understand that and remember it and use that knowledge to pull through the dark times. Because if you’re not around, the dark times are going to close in on all of us. We need you here, and we can help you find a way to be here that makes you feel whatever you need to feel. Happiness, peace, contentment… whatever.”

Chester nodded slightly and dropped his gaze, his cheeks flushing such a deep colour that it was visible even in the dim light.

“I had been doing so well, Mike… I don’t know what came over me. I suddenly stopped caring about anything and I had a drink, and then it just spiralled…”

“The alcohol mixes everything up,” said Mike. “It pushes away the good things, hides them away from you, and shines a spotlight on everything else and then tells you that that’s all there is. It tells you lies and tries to trick you into making terrible choices. It’s not you, Chester. It’s a sickness. You are not the sickness. And you can beat it. You need to promise me that you’ll try — that you’ll stick around and give yourself a chance. And give me a chance to help you. Will you do that? Will you promise me?”

His words were breathless and rapid, his voice shaking slightly. He was on the edge of tears. Chester nodded feverishly and placed his hands on either side of Mike’s head, his fingers gliding into his thick, black hair. Mike could feel Chester’s breath on his face, see the tears twinkling like jewels in his eyes.

And then, without warning, Chester bumped his lips against Mike’s, and again, their noses colliding awkwardly before Chester shifted his body and tilted his head and pressed forward again, his lips making proper contact this time, slightly parted, his hands still holding Mike’s head, his fingers curling through Mike’s hair, pulling it slightly.

Mike felt a giddying mixture of utter shock and relief. The kiss was both unexpected and somehow completely inevitable. In any other circumstances, he would’ve avoided it, pulled away, stopped it from happening, but whatever consequences the action might have were utterly irrelevant in the face of Chester’s mortality. Nothing bad that might come of this was anywhere near as bad as the alternative. He was painfully aware of how close he’d come to losing a person he loved more than he’d ever admitted, even to himself, and he cared about nothing at that moment other than the fact that Chester was still alive; that a possible disaster had been narrowly averted. He would let Chester have whatever he wanted, whatever would make him feel better… whatever would keep him in the world.

And after these thoughts had finished tumbling through his head, Mike realised that his own hands had moved their way up Chester’s back, unbidden, pulling him closer, and the kiss was still in progress, Chester moving his lips gently and slowly and then deeply and desperately, pressing his tongue forward to meet Mike’s.

Mike felt as though his mind was in a frozen state and his body had taken over, making decisions completely independently of him. There was nothing rational about the way he seized hold of Chester’s trousers and hauled the smaller man’s body squarely onto his lap.

He spent no time analysing his urge to run his hands down the singer’s chest and up his sides, lifting his shirt so that his hands met skin — he simply obeyed the urge. He slid his hands across the creamy expanse of Chester’s back and felt Chester shiver and move the kiss from his lips to his jaw to his neck.

Mike didn’t think about how tight his pants felt all of a sudden, he simply moved his hands down onto Chester’s hips and pressed Chester harder against himself in response to the mounting pressure. Chester whimpered slightly and pulled away from Mike’s neck to make sudden, intense eye contact. It was like an electric bolt bringing Mike out of his reverie of dreamy disconnection. He was in control of himself once again, mind and body realigned. He stared into Chester’s eyes with hunger and love unlike anything he’d felt before.

The tears were gone, burnt away in the heat of whatever intense emotion was taking hold of this small, beautiful man, driving him to press himself harder against Mike, to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. His hands were trembling and so Mike helped him, carefully working the buttons open until he could push the shirt from Chester’s shoulders, down his arms and away, away, away.

As Chester began to work on the buttons on Mike’s shirt, Mike found himself speaking, thoughts he’d kept to himself for almost two decades tumbling out of his mouth.

“You were always so insecure about being little… You always wanted to be bigger, taller, stronger, but… but I always thought… I always loved it, how small you are. This small guy with this massive voice. It’s so endearing, it’s so cute, honestly, fuck, I know, I’m running my mouth here, but… I’ve just never been able to say it… You’re the little spoon, you know? Even when you’re fit and strong and bulked up a bit, you’re still little. That’s why everyone loves you. It’s just one of the reasons. Everyone wants to big spoon you, keep you warm and safe. Everyone wants to hold you, I swear to god. You’re so… you’re just so fucking precious, I can’t even…”

Chester was laughing then, his eyes glistening. “You know I’m a 41-year-old man, right?”

“Yes! You’re an adorable 41-year-old man, and you’ll be an adorable 91-year-old man one day.”

“You reckon?”

“Yeah, if you look after yourself.”

“I think I’ve done way too much damage already. I’d be lucky to reach seventy-one.”

“Seventy-one is not too bad. Lower average, I think. Aim for seventy-one if you think that’s a reasonable goal, and then every year after that will be like a bonus. Seventy-one is a better result than forty-one, Ches. Forty-one is just… it’s such a waste. You’ve got so much left to do. And so much left to give. You’re fit and mobile. You’re not even ugly yet.”

Mike grinned, the tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, and Chester smiled back at him — a small, sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. The passion had ebbed for the moment, but it hadn’t left any awkwardness in its wake. Chester sat, straddled across Mike’s lap, fiddling with Mike’s now unbuttoned shirt.

“I’m not going to age well,” he said. “I did too many drugs and I smoked and drank too much.”

“Who the fuck cares? You’re so cute. You’ll rock the wrinkles and grey hair.”

Mike lifted his hand and ran his thumb down Chester’s cheek and along his jaw.

“I want you to get old, Chester. I want to hang out with you when we’re a pair of grouchy old fuckers with walking sticks and reminisce about the old days, when we fucking rocked the world.”

Chester nodded and flicked his eyes up to look at Mike.

“That sounds pretty good.”

“It does.”

“Pretty… good,” Chester said again under his breath, his eyes slipping out of focus for a second as his mind wandered somewhere that Mike couldn’t follow. Then his eyes locked back onto Mike’s and he pressed forward again, lips parted, eyelids sliding closed, and Mike met the kiss slowly and gently, sliding his warm, strong hands around Chester’s naked back to draw him close and hug him tight against his chest.

He realised Chester was crying when he felt the tears dropping onto his face, and tasted them on his lips, but Chester didn’t want to stop kissing him, and so he reciprocated until Chester moved his lips away and buried his face in Mike’s shoulder, his breath hot and ragged. His entire body was trembling violently in Mike’s arms and Mike held him tightly and strongly, as though a hurricane were threatening to tear him away and cast him into the abyss.

He cupped one large hand over the back of Chester’s head, moving his fingers over the dark, close-shaved hair. Chester smelled of soap and clean sweat and only the faintest trace of the evil whisky and also something else Mike couldn’t quite place, but that was definitely contributing to the way his heart was hammering high in his chest.

Without warning, Chester pressed his hips roughly against Mike’s, causing a strangled groan to erupt from between Mike’s parted lips — a sound Mike hadn’t realised he was capable of making. He drew in a shuddering gasp and his cheeks flushed at his loss of control. He felt the smooth hardness of Chester’s teeth against his neck and had just registered that it meant he was smiling deviously, his face still pressed into Mike’s skin, when he pushed his hips forwards again, obliterating any coherent thoughts Mike had in his head.

“Fuuuck…” Mike whispered.

“You’re the precious one,” said Chester, his voice soft and silky, his words escaping between tender kisses along Mike’s neck and jaw. “I might be the little spoon, but you’re the tub of chocolate ice cream.”

His hips found a slow rhythm, rolling against Mike’s as Mike panted and laughed.

“That’s so fucking cheesy,” he gasped, as Chester began to run his tongue along the shell of Mike’s ear. “That’s… fuuuuck…”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“With a… with a man? No.” He slid one of his hands down onto Chester’s backside and pressed him in closer, harder. “Have… you?”

Chester drew in a sharp breath at the feeling of Mike’s hand pushing against him. “Maybe,” he said. “You don’t need to know everything.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I just need… I just…”

He could feel everything; the hardness of Chester’s dick lined up against his own, the seams of the fabric of their jeans pressing painfully against them, the heat of it, the pressure, the exquisite pleasure sending shockwaves through his body. Chester was kissing him again, tongue gliding across his lips, hands reaching desperately beneath his undershirt to rub against his chest, his stomach, the trail of dark, soft hair leading down…

“Ches, I… ahhh…”

It was too much. Mike came suddenly with a shuddering gasp, pressing himself up against Chester with a force he could barely control, Chester holding onto him tightly to avoid being thrown from his lap entirely. Mike was barely done riding out the wave of his ecstasy when he lifted his friend and lay him down on the couch, grappling urgently with the button and zip of Chester’s jeans and dragging them from the singer’s body as though both of their lives depended on it.

Kneeling on the floor beside the couch, he slipped his fingers through the open front of Chester’s silky underwear and took him in hand, pressing their mouths together before Chester could make a sound. With his free hand, Mike stroked Chester’s shaved head with a deft gentleness.

Chester whimpered and trembled, turning towards Mike, pressing himself harder into Mike’s hand, his chest rising and falling heavily, his eyelids fluttering as they tried to stay open, but couldn’t manage under the influence of the pleasure consuming him in hot, desperate waves.

“Mike…” he mumbled against Mike’s lips. “Mike…” And then he was shuddering and twitching and gasping and Mike felt the hot, slick wetness cover his fingers before Chester slumped into the cushions, spent, his eyes dark and intense, fixed onto Mike’s eyes, saying everything while neither of them spoke.

Mike slid his hand out of Chester’s underwear, wiping it on his own jeans before nudging Chester until he wriggled closer to the backrest of the couch, opening up a space alongside himself. Mike lay down beside him, rolling Chester carefully onto his side so that he could wrap himself around the smaller man, his front flush with Chester’s sweaty back, his lips resting against Chester’s neck.

“Little spoon,” he whispered into Chester’s ear, wrapping his arm around him, finding his hand and entwining their fingers. Chester squeezed his fingers and slid one of his legs in between Mike’s so that another part of them was entwined too.

Their breathing slowed, but sleep didn’t come. Not yet.

“Are you OK?” Mike whispered.

“I’m OK,” Chester replied. “I uh… I never thought that would happen. I mean, I’ve imagined it plenty of times, obviously, but…”

He trailed off and Mike stroked his arm. “Was it like you imagined?” Mike asked, unsure of what else he should say.

“No,” said Chester.

“Oh—”

“Not in a bad way. It was real, so it was better.” He paused. “Did you ever think about it? Before?”

“No,” Mike admitted. “Not really. I thought about this bit, but I think everyone in the world has imagined spooning you, so…”

Chester laughed. “So you jumped from spooning me in your imagination one day to literally jacking me off on my own couch the next day. That’s quite an escalation.”

“I suppose. I don’t feel weird about it, though. Which is more surprising to me than the fact that I just touched your dick.”

“You were good at it.”

“Yeah, I have one too, so I know how it works.”

Chester snorted with laugher. “This is fucking crazy.”

“Is it though?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know what’s crazy and what isn’t, anymore. Everything’s all over the place in my head, in my life. But whether it’s crazy or not, this doesn’t feel wrong. It’s probably the most right anything has felt in… a while. And I don’t mind what happens next. I’m not going to be weird about it. I promise. Like even if it never happens again, even if I can never… even if…”

“Shhh.” Mike hugged Chester tighter against him. “It’s fine. We’ll work it out. As long you’re OK, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

Chester turned around in Mike’s arms, their knees banging awkwardly together until they found an acceptable position face-to-face, foreheads touching. Chester smiled and rubbed the tip of his nose back and forth against Mike’s.

“Everything’s fine,” he said.

*****


	2. Support

Mike woke the next morning confused and uncomfortable, one of his legs and one of his arms hanging off the side of a couch that wasn’t his couch, and his other arm numb because someone was lying on top of it — someone who wasn’t Anna. The previous night’s events came rushing back suddenly in a massive wave that crashed over him and took his breath away.

Chester. Ches. Chazzy Chaz. He was fast asleep on top of Mike’s right arm, their fingers messily entwined. He had curled up into the foetal position, which had pushed Mike over to the very edge of the couch. Birds were chirping in the trees outside and early morning sunlight was streaming in through a gap in the curtains.

With great care, Mike disentangled his fingers from Chester’s and withdrew his arm from underneath him, pins and needles prickling painfully through his muscles and skin. Chester grumbled and squirmed, but didn’t wake up.

Mike gently covered Chester’s naked torso with the throw blanket and then sneaked out of the room to find coffee. He had never needed coffee more desperately in his life. He and Chester had some serious talking to do, and they’d need something caffeinated to make that possible.

Mike also needed to get in touch with Anna. Although he had been heading home before he’d decided to go to Chester’s instead, she hadn’t actually been expecting him home the night before — it would’ve been a surprise. He’d told her he was going to stay in the studio overnight because he’d initially planned on doing a bit of work on some ideas he’d had, and anyway, it was closer to the venue for the photoshoot they were meant to be attending in the morning.

Fuck. The photoshoot.

His phone was on the kitchen counter where he’d left it the evening before — thankfully with a bit of a charge left in it — and Mike set about firing off a series of texts.

*

Mike: _Hey, love — I’m at Chester’s. He’s very unwell. Nothing to worry about right now, but I’m going be here for a while. Will explain later. I love you. M._

*

Mike: _BBB, have you got the number for this morning’s photoshoot guy? We have to call it off._

Brad: _Why? What’s going on? You OK?_

Mike: _I’m OK. Chester’s sick. I’m with him atm. Gonna be fine. I can’t talk right now. Will tell you everything later. Can you send me the number and tell the other guys it’s off?_

Brad: _Yeah, sure. It’s 55534776685. Call me asap._

Mike: _Thanks B. Will do. Gimme a few hours._

*

Mike: _Hey, dude. I’m so, so sorry to do this to you, but we have a bit of situation this morning — Chester’s very unwell and there’s no way he can make it to the shoot, so we’re going to have to cancel. I’m so bummed to have to do this. We were really looking forward to it. I’m with Chester right now and he sends his apologies. If you’re up for it later, we can chat about rescheduling for another day? Let me know. Sorry again, bro. I know it’s really short notice and really inconvenient. MS._

*

Mike toyed for a moment with the idea of texting Talinda, but decided against it. What could he say to her? “Hey Talinda. Just to let you know, your husband nearly killed himself last night, but I got there just in time and stopped it from happening, and then we made out on the couch instead, so everything’s fine.”

Fuck.

Mike stared blankly at Chester’s elaborate coffee machine for a few moments before deciding that he did not have the brain capacity to figure out how to work the damn thing right now, and put the kettle on to make instant coffee instead.

He was just stirring in the milk when Chester shambled awkwardly into the kitchen doorway and stood there in his underwear, staring at Mike as though not entirely sure that Mike was really there, in his kitchen, with his hair standing up all over the place and his shirt unbuttoned.

“Hey,” said Mike, placing the coffees on the kitchen table and taking a seat.

“Hey,” said Chester and joined him, wrapping his hands gratefully around the steaming mug.

“You feeling OK?”

Chester gave a bark of laughter. “I feel like shit,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” said Mike, without knowing exactly why he was saying it.

Chester opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again and sipped at the coffee. “Instant,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t know how to…”

“It’s fine. Mellow. Forgot I had any, actually.”

“It’s the good instant shit.”

Chester shrugged. “Of course. Only the best.”

A slightly strained silence settled over them. Mike scratched his neck, chewed his thumbnail, tapped his foot against the leg of the kitchen chair and then fell suddenly still when Chester looked up at him.

“It’s all weird now that the sun’s come up, isn’t it?” said Chester, and Mike didn’t have to ask him what he was talking about.

“A bit,” said Mike. “But it’s OK.”

“Why is it that daylight makes it seem like… like there’s some sort of order being imposed on us and everything’s very rational? I’m so much more sane when it’s light outside.”

Mike decided to shatter the ice-crust that was forming over the subjects of Chester’s mental health and their recent liaison before it could get any thicker. “So you’re saying you wouldn’t have considered killing yourself or hooking up with me if it had been day time?”

Chester blushed and blew out his cheeks and then settled his face into a small, sad, crooked smile. “I’m sorry. About the first thing. I would apologise for the other thing too, but I can’t actually remember if it was me who started it.”

“I don’t remember either,” said Mike. “But I don’t think any apologies are in order anyway.”

Chester cocked his head and looked at Mike with one raised eyebrow. “You’re a strange guy, Shinoda.”

“How so?”

“I thought I had you pegged. Regular middle-class straight boy. Ridiculously wholesome and uncorruptible. Hah.”

“Maybe I was all of those things up until—”

“Are we really going to talk about this?”

“We don’t have to. But there are two elephants in this room, and I think it might be a bit weird to pretend—”

“Did you speak to the others? While I was asleep?”

“I called off the photoshoot. I told Brad you were unwell and I’d speak to him later. I haven’t given them any details.”

“Are you going to?”

“Chaz… you were suicidal. It’s not a fucking joke. It’s not a trivial thing. Whatever we have going on with the band, it’s secondary to your life and your health. We have to get you well again and make some changes. We can put the band stuff on hold for a while.”

“But the fans—”

“Fuck the fans, Chester. They’ll survive if we cancel a tour. Our priority is ensuring that you survive.”

“So you’re going to tell the guys.”

“I’d prefer if you told them yourself, but I can help you, if you want me to. You can frame it in whatever way you want to frame it, but I think it would be best if they understood the situation here.”

“Do also you want me to tell them that we got into it on my couch?” Chester’s lip was curled, his voice suddenly dripping with sarcasm.

“Why are you being like this? I want to help you, Chaz.”

“I’m sorry,” said Chester, draining the last of his instant coffee. He sighed and his shoulders sagged. He looked exhausted. “Really, I’m sorry. I’m being a piece of shit. I’m just confused. And I have a headache. And I’m covered in cum.”

He laughed then — a proper laugh that flushed his face, and Mike found himself laughing too.

“So go and shower then,” he said. “It will make you feel better.”

“You going to join me?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“I sort of was,” said Chester, “but now that I’m actually thinking about it… It’s a nice shower. Plenty of room.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Now I’m confused.”

“Aren’t we all?” Chester smiled. “It’s up to you. You haven’t left the house yet, so it’s still part of the same visit. It doesn’t count as a repeat offence until you go home and come back to me again. So you could consider it bonus round. Part of a package deal. Or something.”

“I’m three different kinds of confused right now.”

“Stop fucking thinking so much, Mike. It’s one of the elephants. I’m acknowledging it. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m straight up addressing the better of the two elephants in the room. Shower with me.”

Mike stared at him, wide eyed, almost disbelieving. Chester stood up.

“There’s no window in the shower,” he said. “No daylight.”

***

What had he meant by this comment? Did the absence of daylight mean a greater risk of suicidal thoughts or simply an increase in the possibility of intimacy? Mike sat alone in the kitchen after Chester had left him. He stared into the dregs of his cold coffee, feeling a strange anxiety gripping him. He made a decision — or at least part of one.  
Chester couldn’t be left alone. Not yet.

Mike hauled himself up and went out of the kitchen into the empty hallway and then up the stairs of this unfamiliar new house, following the sounds of Chester’s humming. He entered a large bedroom with an unmade bed and not much else in it and heard the sound of a tap being turned on, water gushing with a steamy hiss. The door to the bedroom’s en suite was open and the steam was already starting to billow out of it. Mike stepped inside.

“Hey again,” said Chester. He was standing under the running water, still in his underwear. The shower door was open, and some of the water was splashing onto the floor. “It’s roomy in here. And look at the size of the showerhead,” said Chester. “It’s like the Victoria falls. Except hot.”

“Why are you still wearing your underwear?”

“I dunno. I figured you might follow me up here, seeing as I asked you to.”

“Right,” said Mike. “So you want me to keep my clothes on too?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Chester, I don’t understa—”

“Just take your clothes off, Mike, Jesus Christ.”

And so Mike stripped down to his underpants and then took those off too and stood there naked in the middle of Chester’s en suite bathroom, staring at his friend, his mind curiously blank, and serene.

“Come, get in!” said Chester impatiently. “You’ll freeze your balls off out there.”

And so Mike stepped into the shower and immediately Chester put his arms around him and hugged him and there was no sound except for the hiss of the stinging hot water rushing over them. The heat and the force of the shower was soothing and Mike relaxed into Chester’s embrace and hugged him back, his confusion and uncertainty dissolving like dirt and washing away.

“This is nice,” he mumbled.

“Yes, it is,” said Chester. “You know how the fans are always asking you to take your shirt off, but you never do?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because… I don’t want to?”

“OK. That’s fine. I was just thinking that… if it was an insecurity thing, then you really don’t need to worry.”

“So now I’m Chester-approved and ready for fan consumption?”

“Yes, you could say that.”

“I don’t want them to consume me.”

“Hey, I’m half naked all the time and they haven’t taken bites out of me yet.”

Mike nibbled on Chester’s shoulder. It was playful — a silly response to what Chester had just said — but Chester tensed.

“Is this wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Mike honestly.

“You love Anna,” said Chester. “And I love Talinda. And this would hurt them. That probably makes it wrong.”

“I don’t think it's that simple,” said Mike. “I’m weighing up a couple of different things here, and honestly, as much as I love Anna, and as much I know you love Talinda, their feelings are not my priority. Not right now. And connecting with you like this doesn’t make me love Anna any less.”

“Good,” said Chester. “That’s good. I love Talinda so much, and I need to be there for her and the kids.”

“Of course,” said Mike, feeling tears of relief well up in his eyes, mercifully disguised by the flow of the shower water. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Ches. They need you. They adore you…”

“What is it that’s happening here though? How does it fit in? I don't know how to define it.”

“Uh…” said Mike. “I don't know. Does it have to be defined right now? As long as it’s what you want and it makes you feel good — and I don't just mean um... I mean in your head, in your mind, you know…”

“I don't want you to do this just because of... what I almost did…”

“Chester, it should abundantly obvious that I’m enjoying this too. All I’m saying is that your happiness is the most important thing to me right now. Over and above everything else. If you want this to stop, then say so. That’s totally fine. If you don’t want it to stop, that's fine too.”

“OK,” said Chester, gliding his hands down Mike’s back. It was warm and smooth and wet with the hot water running down it, and Chester pressed his fingers into the skin, massaging him, bringing their bodies closer together until the water couldn’t trickle between them anymore. Then he brought his hands down further to rest Mike’s naked backside. “I uh... don’t want it to stop. Not yet,” he said.

Mike stood very still for a few moments. He had his arms slung loosely around Chester’s waist, but his hands were now compelled to be more adventurous, so he let them roam around Chester’s back, investigating the muscles the singer had been working so hard for at the gym almost every day.

“Jesus, Ches. Remember when you were a skinny guy? What happened to him? You’re fucking ripped.”

“I was told that exercise is good for depression,” said Chester, bluntly. “I thought if I worked out then I wouldn’t need to take meds.”

Mike didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything, and Chester continued: “Turns out fitness wasn’t enough. I probably need meds.”

“It’s OK. There’s no shame in that. We’ll get you sorted out,” said Mike. “We’ll get you an appointment and—”

“I don’t want to think about that anymore,” said Chester. “I just want to enjoy being naked in the shower with Mike Shinoda.”

“That’s fair enough, except... You’re not actually naked.” Mike pulled the wet band of Chester’s shorts and let it snap back against his skin. Then, feeling bold, he started pushing them down and once again felt Chester tense slightly against him.

“Sorry. You can leave them on if…”

“It’s OK,” said Chester, taking a step back away from Mike out of the flow of the water and pulling the shorts down in one swift movement, kicking them away into the corner in a soggy heap. “There. Naked. Somewhat uh... less impressive than you, but—”

He didn't manage to finish the sentence because Mike had stepped forward to close the distance between them, pressing his lips against Chester’s and then gently pushing him back until he was up against the tiled wall of the shower.

It was colder outside of the flow of the hot water, and Mike felt goosebumps when he ran his hands up Chester’s arms, but the warm steam tingled against their skin and anyway, they were generating heat of their own. Mike held Chester’s face with both of his hands and their warm, wet lips moved together in a deep, lazy kiss.

Mike mused on the ways in which it was different to kissing Anna. The rougher skin, the angular shape of the face in his hands, the solidity and strength of the body pressed against his, the masculine intensity of it all that felt as though it had the potential to devolve into something chaotic at any moment. It was there, just beneath the surface — a frantic wildness, only just under control.

At least it was under control for Mike. Mike wasn’t so sure if it was the same for Chester, whose breathing was becoming increasingly heavy, whose fingers were digging so hard into his back that he wouldn’t be surprised if the nails were drawing blood. Silver fingernails. Chester was keeping them painted these days, a detail Mike had noted and appreciated. They matched the sparkly plugs he was wearing in his ears. He was so beautiful.

“Mike,” Chester mumbled, breaking the kiss. “I feel really weak all of a sudden. Like I’m going to fall over.”

Mike could feel that he was relying on the wall and on Mike himself to stay upright, and so he gently helped Chester to lower himself until he was sitting against the shower wall.

“Sorry,” said Chester. “Lightheaded… I haven’t eaten…”

“Let’s get you washed and dried, OK? Then you can lie down and I’ll make you something to eat,” said Mike.

He took a sponge from the hanging rack, squirted some soap onto it and set about washing the both of them. He even soaped Chester’s shaved head while Chester tried half-heartedly to make jokes about the situation, to make light of how dependent and vulnerable he was all of a sudden. He didn’t have the energy though, so he quickly gave up and just let Mike get on with it. Mike helped him slowly and carefully to his feet and guided him under the showerhead to rinse the suds off their bodies.

Once they were out of the shower and wrapped in the biggest, fluffiest towels Mike could find in the bedroom cupboard, Chester wobbled over to the bed and sat down on it, breathless.

“You feeling OK?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, I just need to eat something. And sleep. And like… cry.” He looked up at Mike and Mike saw that his lip was already trembling. And then Chester started to sob. He brought the corner of his towel up to his face to mop his eyes.

“Chaz…”

“Sorry, sorry,” said Chester, flapping his hand dismissively. “I’m fine, I promise, I’m just… it feels like… there’s a backlog of stupid crying… I need to get it out.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” said Mike. “There are some clean clothes here. Comfy sweatpants. Put these on. I’m going to wear some of these too, if that’s all right with you. My jeans are um… Yeah.”

Chester nodded, and Mike started pulling on the clothes — grey sweatpants and soft sweater to match — which were far from a perfect fit, but they smelled fresh and they were comfortable. He placed another set on the bed beside Chester and stroked Chester’s head for a moment.

“I’m going to get you something to eat. You gonna be OK?”

Chester nodded again. “I’ll be fine, Mike. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” said Mike. “Get some rest.”

***

About a minute into preparing an egg scramble with fresh garlic, onions and red peppers, Mike freaked himself out with a paranoid thought and dashed back upstairs to check on Chester.

He was sleeping, his body lying diagonally across the mattress as though someone had tossed him there like a ragdoll. He’d pulled on the sweatpants, but left the top and hadn’t made it underneath the covers before falling asleep, one arm thrown above his head, which wasn’t anywhere near a pillow. His damp towel was in heap beside him. Despite the disorder of his bed and his body, Chester looked comfortable enough — his face was peaceful and his chest was rising and falling gently.

Mike crept back downstairs to attend to the food, and he had just taken it off the hot stove and started to dish it up when there was an urgent knocking on the front door. Mike was startled, but composed himself and went to answer it, trying his best to appear dignified despite the fact that he was wearing Chester’s clothes, which were clearly too small for him. He opened the door to find Brad standing on the threshold.

“Brad?”

“You weren’t answering your phone. I was worried.”

“Everything’s fine.”

Brad blinked. “The fuck it is. Let me in.”

Mike stepped back and Brad walked past him, straight into the kitchen, which was full of the mouth-watering smell of breakfast scramble.

“Where’s Chester?” asked Brad.

“He’s asleep. I was going to wake him up with breakfast.”

“So he’s OK now?”

“Brad,” Mike sighed. “You might want to sit down for this.”

Brad looked at him quizzically. “Mike, why are you wearing Chester’s clothes?”

“I didn’t bring any with me,” said Mike. “I didn’t know I’d be staying the night. Brad… Chester tried to kill himself.”

“He… what?”

“Well, he didn’t actually get that far, but I’m guessing he was minutes away from an attempt when I showed up.”

Brad sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” said Mike. “I mean… I do, in a way. You know what it’s like with Chester. He had a bit to drink, six months sober, and it all just… He had a belt. He was going to—”

“Oh fuck,” said Brad. “Fuck. Fucking… fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Brad looked up at Mike, his face drained of colour, his eyes full of pain, and said nothing. There was nothing to say at that moment.

“Brad, he hasn’t eaten since… god knows when. I need to get some food into him. He was pretty weak this morning.”

“Yeah,” said Brad. “You should put some cheese on that. Smells good.”

“Want some?”

“No, I couldn’t possibly. I was just thinking that Chester would like it more with cheese.”

Brad was right, of course, and Mike grated a generous amount of cheddar over the bowl of breakfast scramble.

“I’ll wait down here,” said Brad. “I don’t want to freak him out.”

Mike nodded and headed upstairs. Chester was still fast asleep, and hadn’t moved a muscle since Mike had last laid eyes on him. Mike sat down on the edge of the bed, and the smell of the food made Chester stir and then open his eyes blearily.

“Holy shit,” he croaked. “That smells so good.”

He pulled himself into a sitting position and Mike tossed him an extra pillow from the floor so he could prop himself up against the headboard before taking the food in his hands.

“Damn. Cheese and everything…”

“It was Brad’s idea.”

“Brad’s?”

“Yeah, he’s here. In the kitchen. He was worried. I had to tell him about… you.”

Chester’s face fell slightly.

“What did he say?”

“Something along the lines of ‘fuck fuck fucking fuck’. He’s shocked and freaked out about it, obviously, but he’s here for you. We both are. Now eat some damn food.”

Chester nodded and put a tentative forkful of egg scramble into his mouth.

“Issogood,” he said, and started shovelling the food in faster.

“Plenty more by the stove.”

Mike watched Chester eat until the bowl was empty — which took about two minutes — and then took the bowl and placed it on a chest of drawers.

“You want to sleep some more or do you want more food?”

Chester pulled a strange face and laughed lightly. “I actually wanted option three, which was having you get in this bed with me for a while to do something other than sleeping, but now that Brad has showed up—”

“Oh don’t let me get in the way of anything,” came Brad’s voice from just outside the bedroom door, and both Mike and Chester almost jumped out of their skins.

“Fuck,” Mike hissed as Brad stepped into the room, looking sheepish.

“Sorry,” he said. “I know eavesdropping isn’t cool. I just wanted to know that you were OK, Ches.”

Mike and Chester both stared at him in wide-eyed, red-faced silence, trying to figure out what he had heard and what he had understood from their exchange.

Brad laughed.

“Calm down,” he said. “I don’t care if you’re fucking.”

“We’re not—”

“I said I don’t care,” said Brad. “Seriously, whatever it is you’ve been up to, I’m just surprised it didn’t start fourteen years ago.”

“Wh—what?”

“Mike, you’re honestly the most oblivious person in the world,” said Brad, leaning, nonchalant, against the doorframe. “I’ve been watching this ‘thing’ happen-but-not-happen for like two decades and I swear, half the time I was more aware of it than you were.”

Mike was stunned and silent while the inside of his head erupted into screaming chaos. Chester, on the other hand, didn’t seem half as bothered by this. In fact, he laughed in response to it.

“You’re such a troll, Brad,” he said. “You never saw anything. We never did anything for you to see.”

“You mean apart from gazing lovingly at each other pretty much non stop? Apart from the innuendos and the stage antics and everything else? Yeah…”

“Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Curious?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What? How are you flipping this around right now? I have nothing to hide.”

“Well neither do I,” said Chester, and crawled over to Mike, who was still sitting dumbstruck, and wrapped his arms around him and planted a kiss on the side of his face.

“You smell like eggs,” said Mike.

“Delicious eggs,” said Chester. “I’ll go and brush my teeth.”

He got up and walked off into the en suite bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving Mike alone with a smirking Brad.

“Don’t say anything, Delson.”

“I wasn’t going say anything bad,” said Brad. “I wasn’t even going to make a joke. I was actually about to be really serious.”

“Oh god—”

“Shut up, Mike. It’s fine. In fact, I think… it’s probably a good thing, right now. He seems all right. Whatever you did to bring him back from the edge, it worked. Now we just have to make sure that he doesn’t land up back at the edge again.”

“I know. I’m going to get him a private appointment.”

“I know a good mental health guy. I’ll give you the number.”

“Thanks, B.”

“No problem,” said Brad. “So… should I leave then? Let you two get on with it?”

“What? No. Ugh,” Mike blushed. “Stop it. I’m going to need to go home to speak to Anna about everything. I don’t want him left alone right now.”

“You know I can hear you, right?!” came Chester’s voice from inside the en suite.

Mike smiled.

“I’ll stay,” said Brad. “Go home and get some clothes that fit you and then come back when you can.”

Mike nodded and Chester emerged from the bathroom smelling like peppermint and cologne.

“I don’t smell like eggs anymore,” he announced. “So you’re going home, Mike?”

“Yeah,” Mike smiled, getting to his feet and going over to Chester, pulling him into a hug. “I’ll be back.”

“Thank you,” said Chester his voice muffled as his face was pressed into Mike’s shoulder. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I love you, Chaz,” said Mike. “And so does everyone. Including Brad. Brad’s going to hang out with you for a while.”

“You guys, I’m not going to do anything stupid… It was just a mistake. I’ll be fine.”

“We know you’ll be fine,” said Brad. “We’ll make sure of it. I’ve got no plans, since we cancelled that stupid photoshoot. So I’m staying here. Get over it. You got Netflix?”

*****


	3. Heart to Heart

“Mike, what are you wearing? Where are your clothes? Is Chester OK? Why is your hair such a mess? What’s going on?”

“That was a lot of questions,” said Mike, flopping into an armchair. Anna took a seat on the footstool in front of him.

“Well? Answer them!” she said. “You’re worrying me!”

“In no particular order… my clothes are here is this grocery bag. I’m wearing Chester’s clothes. My hair is a mess because I didn’t style it. Chester is OK. And… what was the other question?”

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, right. What’s going on. Well. There’s a lot going on, to be honest. I don’t know where to start.”

“At the beginning?”

“At the beginning.”

And so Mike related the tale of his impromptu visit to Chester’s the night before, stopping just before the part where they started kissing on the couch. Anna looked utterly horrified and then she burst into tears.

“Oh my god, Chester… Mike, you can’t leave him on his own!”

“He’s not on his own. Brad came by this morning and he’s there now.”

“Oh, good. Oh my god.”

She got up from the footstool and joined Mike on the armchair, squashing in beside him and putting her arms around him. He hugged her back, burying his face in her hair and inhaling the familiar and comforting smell of it. Coconut shampoo.

“Shit, Mike,” she said. “What if you hadn’t… I can’t even bear to think about it. What can I do to help? We have to help him! Have you told Talinda?”

“No, I haven’t. I don’t know how to. Maybe Chester should do that himself.”

“Maybe I should do it.”

“Actually, yeah, that’s a good idea,” said Mike. “I think that’s a very good idea.”

The missing part of Mike’s story, ‘the better of the two elephants’, as Chester had called it, was burning on the tip of his tongue. He never lied to his wife — not about anything of consequence. He had to tell her. But every time he tried to start speaking, his tongue felt paralysed, and sirens started wailing in his head. But he had to. He had to.

“Anna…”

“Yeah, Mike?”

“There’s something else.”

“Yeah?”

“Something happened last night. After I talked Chester down.”

Anna sighed. “You had sex with him, didn’t you?” she said, blindsiding Mike in much the same way Brad had done only an hour or so before.

“What!? No! What the hell? Brad assumed the exactly the same thing!”

“Brad and I have been talking about this for years, Mike,” said Anna. “So you didn’t have sex. Well, that’s fine.”

“I don’t know what to say right now.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m just happy Chester’s alive.”

Mike’s heart was thumping so hard in his chest that it actually hurt.

“Anna… I didn’t have— I didn’t do what you said, but I did kiss him. And we did some other things. I’m really sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You haven’t hurt me, Mike,” said Anna. “I got over that a long time ago.”

“What?”

“I take everything you give me in good faith. I know it’s always heartfelt and real but I also know that there’s always going to be a little bit of you reserved for Chester. I came to terms with that years ago, and it’s fine. I’ve had this speech prepared for about a decade. I knew one day something would happen. Honestly, I… I didn’t think it would need such a dramatic catalyst. I’m glad you were there for him. And thanks for being honest with me. It means more than you know.”

“I feel like I’m hallucinating,” said Mike. “Like the past twenty-four hours are some kind of fucking crazy dream. I can’t believe that everyone’s been thinking these things about me and I didn’t even know. I never even… I never came close to doing anything with Chester before last night. And yet nobody seems surprised. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“You’re Mike Shinoda,” said Anna. “And you’re a good person. Confusing and sometimes really annoying, but mostly just good.”

“But how can you not be angry with me? I deserve it. Why are you not hurt?”

Anna smiled up at him and rested her head on his chest.

“Because I’m nearly forty and I’ve learned not to waste time and energy feeling hurt about certain things. If it had been anyone other than Chester, I would be hurt. No denying that. But there’s just no point in me getting worked up about your feelings for someone who has been around basically as long as I have and contributed just as much to your life. It’s not a bond I could break, even if I wanted to. And I don’t want to. In a whole lot of ways, he’s helped to make you who you are. And I love who you are.”

She reached up and stroked his face and he felt his eyes start to well up with tears.

“He’s a friend of mine too, Mike,” said Anna. “I care about him. I respect him. And I’ve known since the early days that he loves you in his own way and that you love him too. It’s never affected the way you treat me, so I don’t resent either of you for that.”

She smiled up at Mike, and a couple of his tears splashed onto her hand.

“You’re my favourite person in the whole world, you know that?” said Mike.

“Likewise,” said Anna, wriggling up until she was staring straight into his eyes.

Mike looked at her, his vision blurred by tears, and he kissed her and held her and cried a bit more.

“Are you going to be OK, my love?” said Anna.

Mike gave sob of laughter. “I can’t believe you’re the one asking me that right now. This is completely upside down. But yes, I’m going to be OK. Are you?”

“Yes, of course. Now might I suggest changing into your own clothes and then heading back over to Chester’s? Still a few hours before I need to get the kids from school, so I’ll get hold of Talinda and coordinate things. She’ll be wanting to come here to LA, I’m sure. Probably with Ty and the twins at the very least. I think we should bring everyone here rather than putting the Benningtons in that big empty house together. Talinda might be fragile and Chester could use a few extra layers of support for a while, I reckon.”

“You’re brilliant,” said Mike.

“I know,” said Anna, getting up from his lap and straightening out her clothes. “Go and get changed. I’ll put these in the wash.” She made to pick up the grocery bag of Mike’s dirty clothes, but Mike leapt up from the chair and grabbed it before she could.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do that,” he said, trying to sound casual about it.

***

“Sooo…” said Brad. He was flicking through the Netflix menus on Chester’s TV but not settling on anything. In fact, he didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he was doing at all, just pressing the button rhythmically, over and over again.

“You can say what you want to say, Brad,” said Chester.

“I have no idea what I want to say, Chester.”

“I’m sorry for putting you in this awkward situation.”

“It’s all right. I would much rather be in an awkward situation than a really, really depressing and tragic situation.”

Chester was on the left side of the couch, sitting up against the arm rest, his legs stretched out, taking up most of the couch space. At the other end of the couch, just beyond Chester’s feet, sat Brad. Chester stared at him, trying to imagine what he would think if he knew exactly what had happened on this couch twelve hours ago.

“I just want to know why,” said Brad after a few silent minutes. His voice was heavy and he looked so withered and hurt. Chester felt an ache in his chest. It was guilt.

“I go up and I go down,” said Chester. “It’s always been that way. This time I just went a little further down than usual, and there wasn’t anyone there to stop me. Until Mike showed up.”

“I understand depression isn’t just simple cause and effect, but was there something making it worse this time? Was it… Chris?”

“Yeah, he was part of it. It's his birthday, you know. I was thinking a lot about him and I felt really down about that. And I’m stressed out about some stuff at home. And I’m so tired. I’m so fucking tired all the time, but I don’t want to let everyone down. And, honestly, I know you’re going to think this is pathetic, but I’ve been feeling so shitty about all the hate online…”

“You can’t let it get to you, Chester. There’s been so much good feedback—”

“I know, Brad. I know that. It’s not that I care if some people don’t like the music. That’s inevitable. It’s just the stuff they say about us. It’s so personal, and it’s non stop and it starts fucking with my head. Sell-out, traitor, soulless, blah, blah, blah. I probably could’ve brushed it off five years ago, but… this album is meaningful for me, you know? It’s been a difficult, horrible couple of years, and the past few months especially, and we all put so much into these songs and they mean so much to me and it’s like… I’ve never said anyone has to like them, but why can’t people just ignore the things they don’t like or just be chilled out about it instead of trying to tear us to pieces as if we killed their dog or something? I don’t get it.”

He pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs as though he was cold all of a sudden. When he spoke again his voice was sad and small.

“It’s that thing… that hateful urge that people have. Seeing so many of them doing it all at once, egging each other on like it’s a fucking holy war. It hurts me and I’m ashamed about that, but I can’t help it, Brad.”

“It gets to me too, I won’t lie,” said Brad. “Eeuuhhh what does Brad even do on this album? Hurr durr… Like if there’s no heavy guitar with distortion then I must be sitting on a beach somewhere, contributing nothing. Like if it’s not Meteora 2.0 then it’s shit by default. Bunch of entitled assholes. You’re not wrong about that. There are so many people these days who can’t tell the difference between criticism and douchebaggery.”

“Right?” said Chester. “Like saying ‘this isn’t real music’ isn’t a valuable opinion. Just because you don’t like something, doesn’t mean—”

“I get it, Chester. I’m with you, 100 per cent. But you have to learn to see it for the bullshit it is. They would never say it to your face. They probably don’t even really feel that strongly about it either way. It’s the thrill of anonymity. That physical separation that lets them dispense with empathy. They forget that you’re a human being. You know? You’re famous, so that must mean you don’t have any feelings or whatever, because they think success is like immunity from emotional abuse. They dish it out to you because they think you can take it. Loads of people are on the receiving end of this stuff. You cannot afford to take it seriously.”

“I know. Mostly I’m fine with it. But it’s not the only thing. It’s not even the main thing. It’s just one of a million things setting the mood in my head lately. It gets me down, to think how normal hatred is these days. With everything, not just those fans. You can see it wherever you look, all over the world. So many people acting like Donald fucking Trump all over the place, just not giving a shit about each other or the world. It makes it so hard for me to see the positive stuff. There’s so much crap going on, Brad. I can’t handle it sometimes. I’ve been finding it really hard to stay sober. I think about it all the time. As soon as I’m not distracted or busy, I start craving a drink. And last night it got so intense, I caved in.”

“You should’ve called one of us, Chester.”

Chester swallowed hard and his lip trembled, his emotions starting to get the better of him once again.

“I know,” he said.

“We care about you. All of us do. I mean shit, just think about Phoenix. He worships the ground you walk on. He basically wants to be you. He would be absolutely torn to shreds if anything bad happened to you.”

Chester’s face scrunched up as he fought back tears.

“Aaahh, dammit,” he said. “He doesn’t even know what’s happening right now. He’s such a good dude. He’s always so nice to me. You and Dave. You always have my back with everything. Even when Mike is being a bossy pain in the ass. And Joe’s always up for clowning around with me. He always makes me feel like it’s not too weird to behave like a five-year-old. And Rob is this calm, gentle presence. He’s never said a bad word to me in my life. Shit. Shit, shit, I’ve fucked up so badly. I’m so sorry, Brad. I didn’t mean to make you feel like… I didn’t want to hurt you guys. You’re my best friends, man. I fucking love all of you. I’m so sorry.”

“Please stop apologising.”

“I’m sorry,” said Chester. “Ugh, I mean…” He sighed.

The TV remote had been forgotten in Brad’s hand for some time, but he resumed his button-pushing, and settled on a documentary about house cats, with the volume muted. They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching kittens squirming around in a basket, cats hunting birds in an overgrown garden, slow-motion footage of an elegant feline jumping from a high shelf, landing gracefully on a parquet floor.

“Cats are good,” said Chester. “Cats don’t give a fuck.”

“That is true,” said Brad.

“Brad,” said Chester, “how did you know about Mike and me?”

“Because I literally overhead you talking about it,” said Brad.

“You know what I mean.”

“I’ve known Mike forever. Since we were kids. I understand him. I can read him. I knew something was up from around late Meteora days, through Minutes to Midnight. When you hit that really rough patch. He was so cut up about it, I mean, we all cared a lot, obviously, but Mike was like…” He trailed off.

“I don’t want to mess with his perfect life,” said Chester. “I don’t want to cause trouble with his family, if Anna finds out—”

“Anna knows.”

“What?”

“We talk sometimes, me and Anna. She came to me early on to ask me if there was anything going on. She had no concrete evidence, and neither did I, but we both knew there was something up. She’s pretty relaxed about it these days. My guess is, Mike’s gone home and fessed up everything and she’s completely blown his mind by telling him that she knew all along. She’d get a kick out of that.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t freak out about it. They tell each other everything. I’m telling you this so that you’ll stop worrying about ruining his marriage or whatever. You won’t ruin his marriage. No offence, but you don’t know what you’re dealing with if you think you can get between the Shinodas.”

“What the fuck.”

“You need to think about your own marriage, Chester, not Mike’s. I’m sure Anna has spoken to Talinda in the same way she speaks to me sometimes, but I don’t know what Talinda thinks about it. She’s obviously never brought it up with you, which could mean various things. I’ve never spoken to her about it — only to Anna.”

“Do you think she’d leave me if she found out…?”

“I don’t know, Chester,” said Brad. “I don’t think so, though. She’s clearly not the overly jealous type, or else she wouldn’t be so good at handling the fact that you have kids with two other women.”

Chester cleared his throat. “She puts up with so much shit. And now I’m putting her through even more shit.”

“Just take each thing as it comes. Stop freaking out. Let life happen for a while, yeah? You’re going to bring yourself down again otherwise.”

There was a knock at the door and Chester jumped to his feet immediately. Brad stood too.

“Want me to get that?” he said. “In case it’s not Mike.”

“Yeah…” said Chester, sinking back onto the couch. “Yeah, OK.”

But it was Mike, and Chester felt his heart flutter as he stepped into the lounge, Brad trailing behind him. Mike had put on fresh clothes. Comfortable ones, Chester noted, the sort of clothes you’d wear if you were planning to spend the day slouching around the house or lying on the couch rather than the sort of clothes you’d wear if you were going out or doing anything in the public eye. Mike had brushed his hair, but he hadn’t styled it. It was lying flat on his head. He was carrying a tog bag, as though he was planning to stay for a while. Perhaps he was.

“How you doing, Chaz?” he said, upon spotting Chester on the couch.

“I’m doing fine,” said Chester. “Delson’s taken good care of me.”

“Any time, dude,” said Brad. “If there’s anything else I can do for you, just let me know. I’ll be around.”

“Actually, Brad… there is something,” said Chester.

“Go for it.”

“Um… could you, like, maybe, sort of… could you speak to Dave and Joe and Rob? They need to know. I feel shit about them being left in the dark about why the shoot was cancelled and what’s going on and I know I should speak to them myself, but I think maybe… I think you’d do a better job. You understand, I think. And then it’s less intense for me and less stressful for them because they don’t have to worry about how they react if I’m standing right there. You know? Maybe like—”

Brad was nodding throughout Chester’s breathless request and he finally lifted a hand to shut him up. “I’ll do it, Chester. That’s no problem.”

He looked at Mike and Mike gave him the smallest of nods and smiled.

“Right,” said Brad. “I’ll leave you two to catch up. Look after yourself, Chester. And you too, Mike.”

Chester smiled at him, his lips pressed together, not trusting himself to say anything else just then, knowing his voice would crack. Mike gave Brad a quick hug and then Brad was gone, leaving Mike and Chester alone in the big half-empty house again.

Mike stood, holding his bag in one hand, staring silently at his friend. Chester was squashed up on the couch, hugging his knees, staring back at Mike with his eyes twinkling, searching Mike’s face, the tiniest smile tugging at his lips.

“I missed you,” said Chester.

Before entering the house, Mike had organised his thoughts and feelings nicely — everything neat and orderly in his head. He had felt ready to be a responsible adult, to make rational choices, to toe the line they had carelessly leapt over before. But upon seeing Chester in his baggy sweats, looking more like his old self, but still fragile, still needy, still hurting, Mike felt his resistance crumble once again. Without another thought, he dropped the bag and launched himself onto the couch beside Chester, pulling him into his arms and squeezing him tight.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered. “I missed you too.”

*****


	4. Chapter 4

Within seconds of pulling Chester into his arms, Mike was kissing him again. It started off as a chaste kiss, tentative, careful, a testing of the waters — albeit for the third time in twenty-four hours — but it quickly became hot and breathy, lips opening, tongues venturing forward, hands starting to roam and then grasp and then Chester pulled away and said “Do we have to do this here?”

Mike was stung for a moment, thinking Chester wanted to stop altogether, but then the fog lifted from his lust-addled brain and he said “You want to go upstairs?”

“Yeah,” said Chester. “This couch is not very comfortable.”

When they were on their feet, Mike tried to lift Chester up and carry him, an attempt which quickly devolved into hilarity.

“How do you weigh so much all of a sudden?”

“Muscle weight,” said Chester, winking. “You said it yourself. I’m fucking ripped.”

“And sooo humble about it.”

“I bet I could pick you up,” said Chester, reaching around Mike’s torso and heaving him centimetres off the ground for a moment before putting him back on his feet. “Nevermind. You weigh more than a cow.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s go.”

Chester scrambled up the stairs and Mike followed, his heart pounding, feeling for all the world like a naughty teenager, up to no good but with no intention of acknowledging his misdeeds or, indeed, of putting a stop to them.

They reached the bedroom and Chester turned to him, his dark brown eyes even darker than usual. Mike came to him, took him in his arms and resumed the kiss they’d started downstairs. Neither of them held back, and when Mike pulled away for air, he was distressed to notice how red and raw Chester’s lips looked, grazed by his beard and the force of it all. Chester didn’t seem perturbed, however. His face radiated energy, excitement and undisguised desire.

“Tell me exactly what you want,” said Mike.

Chester breathed in deeply, and closed his eyes for a moment. “I don’t want to think,” he said. “I don’t want to make a single decision. I don’t want to consider consequences, or implications, or obligations. I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile. I just want to feel. I want to let go and know that I’m in safe hands.”

“You want me to take the wheel.”

Chester smiled, amused. “Yes. I want you to take the wheel. I trust you. I want you to do whatever the hell you want to do. Nothing more and nothing less. That’s what I want.”

“OK,” said Mike, pressing his lips against Chester’s, softly this time. “OK.” He slowly guided Chester towards the bed, not allowing the kiss to break until they reached the edge of it, and he was able to push Chester gently back onto the mattress. Chester scooted up until he was lying with his head on a pillow, staring at his friend expectantly. Mike stood at the foot of the bed, looking back at him and smiling.

“You should take some of those clothes off,” said Mike, and Chester obediently wriggled his way out of the sweatpants and the top, leaving him in nothing but a pair of rather tight-fitting taupe boxer shorts, which left very little to the imagination. Mike grinned and stripped down until he too was wearing nothing but his boxers, and then crawled onto the bed.

“Close your eyes,” said Mike, not quite knowing where any of his own decisions or any of his confidence was coming from. Why was he asking Chester to close his eyes? He didn’t know. But Chester closed his eyes, and Mike ran his fingers along Chester’s thigh, over his hip, across his tensed stomach, over his heaving chest, along his pulsing neck, his clamped jaw, his clenched cheek… Every part of him was wound up, ready to snap.

“You need to relax,” said Mike, even though he himself was the opposite of relaxed. He traced his hand back down the same path with a few minor adjustments to the route. He took a detour to softly circle a nipple with his fingertip and another one to probe the belly button, and upon reaching the thigh again, he found himself slipping his hand between Chester’s legs and slowly, carefully pulling one of them out to the side.

Chester shivered and exhaled sharply through his nose as Mike shifted and settled himself on his knees between the parted legs. While Mike was exuding an air of calm, collected self-control, his mind was somersaulting and buzzing. He felt giddy. He felt high. _What now? What do I do now? He’s so beautiful. He’s so tense. How do I make him relax? How do I make him feel good? What are we doing? I’m scared. I want this so much. I want him so much. What do I want to do? What does he want me to do? He’s hard. Shit. Should I touch him? I’ve given another man an erection. On purpose. Oh shit. What do I do now?_

Mike sat back on his heels and cautiously pressed his hand forward to cup the front of the taupe boxer shorts, eliciting a gasp and a full-body twitch from the singer wearing them. Chester kept his eyes closed, though, and Mike was glad of it, as he was certain that his own face looked startled and bright red at that moment. He moved his hand against the warm hardness, applying pressure in various subtle ways until Chester let out a little moan of appreciation — and that was all it took to brush away Mike’s reservations.

He started to remove Chester’s shorts, lifting them carefully over his front and tugging them out from underneath him, shifting himself to Chester’s side and then yanking the shorts down his legs. Chester flicked them off the end of his foot and they disappeared over the edge of the bed. His eyes were open now, his cheeks burning, his hands hovering as though he was fighting the urge to cover himself. Before he could do that, though, Mike arranged his face into what he hoped was a confident and cocky sort of smile and then wrapped one of his hands swiftly and boldly around Chester’s length, thoroughly appreciating the way Chester’s eyes rolled back and then closed again, his head sinking deeper into the pillow, his chest rising but not yet falling as he caught and held his breath, waiting, waiting, waiting.

Mike moved his hand and Chester released a shuddering breath and then another moan that shot straight through Mike like a burning ember, coming to rest and smoulder in the pit of his stomach. He resisted the growing urge to touch himself and concentrated on moving his hand gently but firmly up and down. Chester was on the smaller end of medium-sized, and fit nicely into Mike’s hand, which looked particularly dark against the extra pale, sun-deprived skin. For a moment, he wished there was music playing, or at least some sort of audible activity going on outside, rather than the vast silence filled only with the sounds of skin on skin, and their breathing. Mike felt like there was a spotlight on him and he had forgotten his lines.

“I desperately want to make a joke, but I can’t think of anything appropriate,” he said.

“Hnnngh,” said Chester.

“Do you know what I mean though? I feel weird taking myself so seriously. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Ahhh… shut up… Mike…” Chester groaned.

“Sorry,” said Mike. “It’s just that this is by far the gayest thing I’ve ever done. I mean in a good way. I mean I actually feel high right now. Is it possible to get high without taking anything?”

Chester lifted himself onto one elbow and with his other hand he grabbed Mike around the neck and pulled him in for an urgent kiss, forcing him to stop talking at least for a few moments. Mike melted against him, and everything became a blur.

…his hand picking up the pace; Chester, too short of breath to keep on kissing, dropping his head back, gasping; Mike kissing his neck, kissing his chest, lapping his tongue over a nipple, trailing kisses down his quivering stomach; Mike suddenly aware of the sounds Chester was making — tiny panting whimpers of his name, over and over, punctuated by sharp, shallow intakes of breath: Mike, Mike, Mike — and then Mike found that his lips were right there, right next to his own hand, which was still gliding up and down, and he knew what he was about to do even though some small part of his brain was screaming ‘No! You can’t! Stop!’, as if the inevitable could be avoided at this stage, as though his need to see this thing through could possibly be denied with Chester prostrated before him, having offered himself up so willingly — no, desperately — for this connection. _Have I dreamed about this?_ Mike asked himself. _Why do I feel like I’ve dreamed about this?…_

He took his hand away and let his mouth take over.

“Holy fuuUCK,” Chester yelped, his hands flying into Mike’s hair, gripping and pulling and stroking. “Oh shit, oh my god—”

Mike felt disconnected from what he was doing, almost oblivious to the physical reality of the dick in his mouth, sliding against his tongue, but completely absorbed by what Chester was doing, which was undulating and arching his back, biting his bottom lip, his eyelids fluttering, flickering until he caught Mike’s eyes looking up at him and held his gaze. Chester’s mouth tried to form words, but the attempt was unsuccessful.

Then suddenly Chester put his hands on either side of Mike’s head and pulled him up, smashing their lips together in an almost violent kiss. He grappled frantically with Mike’s boxers, and as soon as those were discarded, he got a grip on Mike’s shoulders and rolled them over so that he was on top, sinking between Mike’s legs and pressing against him, reminiscent of the night before except with no cloth barriers — perfect contact, enhanced by the saliva Mike had just contributed.

There was something wild in Chester’s eyes then, and everything else in Mike’s world ceased to exist. He cupped his hands over Chester’s perfect backside as Chester began to slide against him, pressing himself down slowly and steadily for the first few thrusts, but then rapidly, chaotically, almost ferociously, crying out and sinking his teeth into Mike’s shoulder as they both peaked at the exact same moment, molten heat erupting between them.

“Jesus. Jesus… fucking… christ…”

Chester collapsed on top of Mike, shuddering and gasping for breath and Mike held him there even though the weight of him made it hard to breathe. He put one hand on the back of Chester’s head, and pressed his lips to his sweaty temple.

“I’m… sorry I…” Chester breathed. “I got a bit… I’m sorry…”

He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and inspected the top of Mike’s shoulder, which was bleeding slightly.

“Oh fuck, I’m so sorry!” he said, his voice shrill with sudden horror. “I fucking bit you!”

“It’s fine,” said Mike. “Calm down. Relax.” He hugged Chester and stroked his head until he felt him tremble and then slacken against him.

“I’m sorry,” Chester breathed.

“I’m not,” said Mike.

***

“He’s going to be fine, Talinda,” said Anna, shifting her phone from one ear to the other. “He’s with Mike right now and they’re probably watching stupid cartoons or something.”

Talinda sniffled down the line and Anna felt her heart break a little bit.

“Is it my fault, Anna? Do I make him unhappy?” said Talinda, her voice cracking.

“No, Tali, please, I’m begging you, do NOT go down that path. I’ve known him longer than you have. I knew him when he was with Sam. I know what he’s like when he’s in a bad relationship. It’s not you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to him. Well, you and Mike.”

_Shit…_ thought Anna. _Why the hell did I say that?_

“But he hasn’t called me.”

“He’s terrified of letting you down. He’ll want to be strong for you. Let him get his shit together. By the time you get here, he’ll be ready to open up. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

“What do I tell the kids?”

“You don’t have to tell them anything, unless you need to explain your own emotions to them. Maybe just tell them daddy’s sick and you’re going to visit him in Los Angeles and have a holiday and help him get better. Or something like that.”

“They’re going to want to know why they can’t come too—”

“Well, they can, but—”

“No, I couldn’t do that to you,” Talinda sighed. “And I don’t want them to be there anyway, not at first. I’m a mess, Anna. I need to speak to Ches without the kids climbing all over him.”

“There’s plenty of room, but if you’re sure—”

“Thank you, but I am sure. They love staying with Ryan anyway. He lets them eat so much crap.”

“OK,” said Anna. “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you. Even though the circumstances are horrible.”

“Same here,” said Talinda. “I apologise in advance for how much I’m going to cry on your shoulder when Chester’s not looking. I don’t know what to say to him.”

“You’ll figure it out. I know you will. Try not to worry about it until tomorrow, OK? Just stay calm and go through the motions and have a relaxing flight. He’s in good hands.”

“I feel bad for Mike though, taking on all this responsibility. It should be me dealing with this.”

“Mike is fine. I promise. He would do anything for Chester. You know how they are — practically glued together. ”

***

“We’re literally glued together right now,” Mike mumbled against Chester’s head, and Chester laughed loudly. As though to test this hypothesis, he wriggled his hand between their bodies and then started peeling himself carefully away from Mike.

“Damn,” he said, lying down beside Mike and running his hand up and down his own cum-slathered stomach. “Uh… I don’t know what to say.”

“Uhh…” said Mike

“Yeah.”

Mike turned his head and found Chester staring at him. Right up this close, he could see all the different shades of brown in his eyes. They were so deep and so warm. He had a little smile on his face, that irresistible Chester smile, bottom lip fuller than the top one, the tiny little scar — evidence of the lip ring from years gone by — just visible beneath it.

“So, that was… nice,” said Mike, awkwardly.

“Yes,” said Chester. “Yes it was. Does your wife know about it?”

“What?”

“Brad said you tell Anna everything.”

“Fucking Brad… Yes, well, I haven’t seen Anna yet, so how would I have told her?”

“But you told her about last night, right?”

“Yeah—”

“And she still let you come back here.”

“Yes, she did.”

“So she probably knows,” said Chester.

Mike sighed. “I’m sure she has her suspicions, yeah.”

Chester shook his head and smiled. “Goals,” he said.

Just then, the atmosphere was broken by a loud buzzing sound and Chester heaved himself up to retrieve his phone from the nightstand. It was almost out of battery, having lain there unplugged since the day before. As Chester looked at his phone, Mike saw his bottom lip tremble and his eyes fill with tears, and he snatched the phone away from him to inspect it, irrationally worried for a moment.

It was a text message.

*

Phoenix: _Hey Ches. Saw Brad a minute ago. Just wanted to let u know I’m here if u ever want to talk. For some reason I don’t think I’ve ever told u how much u mean to me, so I’m going to tell u now. U mean a lot to me. A LOT. Ur one of my bros. Probably my favourite one, actually. Don’t tell Mike. Hope to see u soon._

*****


	5. Wives

Chester: _Baby, I’m so sorry for scaring you. I don’t deserve you. I’m a fucking loser. Please don’t hate me. I can’t wait to see you._

Talinda: _You’re not a loser. You deserve the best. I don’t know if that’s me, but I try. I don’t know what else to say right now except I love you. I could never hate you. I’m on my way and I’ll see you soon._

 

***

 

Chester pulled back the curtain slightly and peeped out of the window. He was in one of Mike and Anna’s spare rooms, which he had been pacing for the past hour, waiting for Talinda to arrive. Mike was leaning against the doorframe, watching him.

“She’s gonna fuckin’ lose her shit,” said Chester. “She’s going to think it’s her fault that I drank.”

“Ches, she’s going to be be upset, but it will be fine,” said Mike. “And Anna and I are here for both of you if you need a time out. We’ll give you space though.”

“I wish I hadn’t been so fucking stupid.”

“What’s done is done. You drank. You had an episode. It happened. Now we move through it and get you better.”

Chester was pacing again. He looked at Mike, his face lined with worry. “I’m so sorry for putting you through this, Mike. As if you don’t have enough on your plate.”

“Chaz, we’ve cleared the plate. The kids are with Rob. He’s going to take them to the beach; teach Otis how to surf or something. It’s all good. We’ve got the whole weekend. Just stop piling all this guilt onto yourself, OK? If I keep having to reassure you that I want to be here for you, then it actually will be a burden.” Mike smiled.

Chester scratched his head fretfully. “OK,” he said. “I would rather be back at the other house with you, though. I forgot about everything for a while.”

Mike smiled and felt the heat creeping into his cheeks as he remembered…

Following their afternoon of unprecedented intimacies and a subsequent very necessary shower, they had eaten pot noodles, brushed their teeth together in Chester’s en suite bathroom and then spent the evening back in the bed, chatting about nothing of particular importance until had Chester fallen asleep in Mike’s arms.

Mike couldn’t lie to himself. He would rather be back there too, cuddled up against his friend in that big, messy bed, holding him and protecting him from all the hurt and the pain in the world. But time refuses to stand still for long, and important things can’t be put on hold forever. Friday the 21st of July had dawned and it was time for them both to face reality. Mike had helped Chester pack a suitcase and driven him to his house first thing in the morning. It was now early afternoon.

Chester went back to the curtain to peep out again, and Mike saw him jump slightly.

“Shit, she’s here,” Chester said, and Mike could hear the sound of Anna’s voice outside, greeting Talinda, followed by the sound of suitcase wheels juddering up the pathway.

“Stay here,” said Mike. “We’ll send her your way and give you two some time to catch up in private.”

Chester’s eyes were wide and fearful. He nodded, chewed his fingernail and cast his eyes quickly around the room as though searching for something. Mike felt a small ache in his chest as he recognised the behaviour — Chester was craving a drink; something to take the edge off.

The room was empty apart from a double bed, a large chest of drawers next to the door to the en suite, a shelf full of books, two armchairs, a coffee table and Chester’s luggage for the weekend, standing neatly in the corner. There was no mini bar, of course. Anna had put all of the alcohol in the house safely out of sight.

Mike stepped out of the room, partially closing the door behind him and made his way to the entrance hall to greet Talinda. As he’d predicted, she looked tired and tearful. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she was wearing a pair of faded running pants and what appeared to be one of Chester’s sweaters. She had no make-up on and Mike was reminded that she was, in fact, forty years old, not twenty-something, as so many photos of her suggested. She gave Mike a brave smile as he came around the corner.

“Hey,” she said, and he gave her a big hug, making eye contact with Anna over her shoulder. Anna was chewing on her lip, clearly concerned about Talinda and the meeting that was soon to take place under their roof.

“Chester’s just around the corner in one of the spares,” said Mike. “I told him to wait there. You OK?”

Talinda shook her head, fighting back tears. “No,” she said. “I’m so scared I’m going to fuck up and say the wrong thing and hurt him even more.”

“Tali, you’ve helped him through addiction and depression before. You can do this,” said Anna. “And we’ll be here if you need us.”

Talinda nodded, but looked unconvinced. Anna walked with her until they were a few paces from the slightly open door of the spare room and then retreated into the hallway where Mike was standing, staring absent-mindedly at Talinda’s bags lying discarded on the rug. Anna took him by the hand and led him into the living room, further away from the Benningtons.

“You OK, Mike?” she asked, settling onto the couch. He sat down heavily beside her and sighed.

“Yeah, I’m OK,” he said. “You think they’re going to be all right?”

“Eventually,” she said. She took his hand and laced their fingers together. “How was Chester yesterday afternoon? And last night? I haven’t had a chance to speak with you.”

Mike couldn’t help blushing, and felt his stomach sink slightly as his face heated up — he knew that Anna had noticed and would immediately understand what it meant.

“He was… fine,” said Mike. “Look, Anna—”

“I’m not sure I want details, Mike.”

“If it’s any consolation, I did not have sex with him. I mean, not technically, if you’re going with the traditional definition—”

“Like I said — I don’t think I want to know.”

“Please be mad at me.”

“No,” said Anna. “I won’t be mad at you just so you can feel like I’m counteracting your sins with punishment or whatever. I’m not mad at you. I’ll admit I’m slightly concerned about it though. Is it going to keep happening? I mean I could probably find a way to accept it — I’m not saying that would be easy, but I could imagine coming to terms with it and not letting it wreck me. But Talinda…”

“I went back there yesterday with every intention of being a responsible adult, but that’s just not what he needed right then, and I completely caved in,” said Mike. “I’m so confused at the moment.”

“Are you confused about us?”

“No,” said Mike. “I’ve never been confused about us. I’m just confused about where all this other stuff is coming from. I didn’t know it was there. Or maybe… I knew it was there, but I had sort of misidentified it. And now it’s hitting me like a sledgehammer because I never acknowledged it properly before.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of distant wailing. Mike’s brows knitted together.

“Should we check on them? That’s a lot of crying.”

“Talinda cries. Which makes Chester cry. Which makes Talinda cry more,” said Anna. “And vice versa. Let them cry it out.”

 

***

 

Chester held onto his wife as though she was a lifebouy in a raging ocean; the only thing between him and certain death by drowning. He cried onto her shoulder while she cried into his.

“I keep having this train of thought,” she sobbed, “that we’re in the wrong timeline. That Mike showing up wasn’t what really happened and this is all a dream, like an alternative reality, and in the real timeline, you’re gone and I’m alone and I’m having to explain to the kids what happened and the press are chasing me around and everything’s fucking broken. I feel like a person who just came so close to being killed by a train that it skinned their arm or took off one of their ears. Just too close.”

“I’m here,” said Chester, not knowing what else to say, and struggling to form even these few words. “I’m still here, Talinda.”

“Babe why didn’t you call me?”

“I… I didn’t call anyone. I don’t know why.”

“But I’m your wife.”

“I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know what to say. My head was all wrong. I drank a bit and everything got fucked up. I was totally convinced that everyone would be better off without me. I honestly didn’t even feel like it was such a big deal. It was only when Mike showed up that I even thought about how it would affect anyone else.”

“Please Ches… I don’t want you to ever feel that way again, but if you ever do, if anything ever happens… please promise you’ll call me. Please.”

“I will. I promise. I will.”

But Chester knew that, even if it he had made just such a promise before, it wouldn’t have made any difference to him two nights ago. The Chester who made promises to his wife and the isolated Chester in the throws of intensely suicidal urges were not the same Chester at all. The second one had no sense of obligation to respect the promises of the first. These were dramatically separate states of mind — separate states of being.

Chester nursed a hope, however, that the darker version of himself would never again have an opportunity to surface in the way it had that night. The edge had never scared him before, but now that he’d been so close to it, and had some idea of the devastation he would leave in his wake, he was terrified.

He held Talinda against himself, feeling her beautiful shape inside her shapeless clothes, smelling the faintest trace of familiar herbal soap on her skin. She felt and smelled like home. She was so perfect, with her warm brown skin and soft black hair and her elven face. He traced the tattoos on her upper arm, following the familiar patterns and shapes.

She was so very alive. And so was he, and he was grateful for that. He wanted to explain this feeling to her, but he couldn’t find the words for it, so instead he kissed her face, her cheeks salty with tears, and then pressed his lips against hers, and the softness and familiarity of the feeling was like a warm blanket settling over him.

 

***

 

Mike scratched his beard and then pinched his nose. His foot was bopping up and down, hammering an annoying rhythm on the floor. He was fretful, distracted, uncomfortable in his own skin.

“I need to check on them,” he said to Anna, who had picked up a book and started reading it cross-legged on the couch beside him.

“You can’t just barge in there, Mike. We said we’d give them space.”

“I won’t barge in. I just want to go near to the door and listen for a second. They’ve gone very quiet.”

“Fine,” said Anna. “Just don’t interrupt them, OK?”

“OK.”

Mike crept along the passage, unnerved by the fact that he couldn’t hear even the faintest sound emanating from the spare room. He paused near the door and held his breath, straining to hear something, anything — but the Benningtons were silent. Had they left the room? He crept forward slowly, placing his feet down toes first, trying his hardest not to make any sound.

Once he was right near to the door, he craned his neck to peer in through the gap and was surprised to see that Chester and Talinda were in the bed, fast asleep. The emotional strain of the day must’ve just sapped the last reserves of their energy.

He watched them for a moment. They looked peaceful and comfortable, Chester with his face tucked against Talinda’s chest, her arm coiled around his back, her dark hair fanned over the pillow.

Mike retreated slowly and returned to Anna, who was waiting expectantly for a report on the situation.

“They’re napping,” said Mike. “It’s adorable. You should go and and have a look.”

Anna laughed. “I bet you wish you could join them.”

“You would feel the same way if you saw how snuggly they look.”

 

***

 

Brad: _Hey Mike. How’s he doing?_

Mike: _He’s ok, I think. Got him and T in the spare room for the wknd. Keeping an eye on him. Anna called the doc. Got an appointment for tues. Home visit, which is cool._

Brad: _Good to hear. So Rob says he has the kids for a few days. Good idea._

Mike: _Yeh. Anna told them uncle rob would be fetching them from school and taking them on a beach wknd & apparently they were so excited. I think they prefer him to us, tbh. More laid back. Good luck to him. I hope they don’t wear him out._

Brad: _I spoke to him earlier & he said Joe & Lola were coming with them to the beach. Assume that means Joe will be on sandcastle duty while Rob manages the surfing._

Mike: _I can confirm that joe makes a mean sandcastle. Art school has more practical applications than you think, brad._

 

***

 

Chester awoke in the evening, his head heavy and his mouth dry. The light had faded to dusk behind the curtains and the room was dark and shadowy apart from Talinda’s bedside lamp, which was casting a warm glow over the bed. Talinda was sitting up in the bed beside him, reading a book from the bookshelf: ‘Reasons to Stay Alive’, by Matt Haig. She stroked Chester’s head when she saw him open his eyes. A fresh glass of water was standing on the bedside table and Chester sat up and drained it in one go.

“How long was I asleep?” he croaked.

“Hours,” said Talinda. “I only napped for about half an hour and then I read most of this book while you were out. It’s good. You should read it.”

“You know I’m not much of a reader—”

“Yeah but— He’s this British guy, right, and he has depression and also a bit of substance abuse history and all that. And he had it so bad one time he nearly jumped off a cliff in Ibiza. But he didn’t. And he talks about how he handled everything and how his girlfriend helped him through it. It’s helped me to understand some things a bit better. Maybe it will help you too.”

Chester moved closer to her, put his arm around her and rested his head on her shoulder.

“OK I’ll read it. Or listen to it, if there’s an audio version.”

Talinda laughed. “I don’t know how you manage to write such great lyrics and poems. You’re such an illiterate bastard.”

“Hey!” Chester tickled her in the ribs and she laughed even harder.

“Oh, Anna brought some food in, by the way,” she said. “You slept right through that. Yours is on the coffee table. Noodle salad with chicken and vegetables. It’s really good, you should have some.”

“Thanks,” said Chester. “I will. Damn, I feel so fuzzy in my brain.”

“You’re probably going to be wide awake tonight while I’m trying to sleep. I’m just about ready to crash, to be honest.”

“I’m still tired. I won’t keep you awake.”

He hugged her a little tighter and nuzzled his nose against her cheek.

“I love you, Talinda.”

“I love you too, Ches,” she replied, pressing her lips against the tip of his nose.

 

***

 

Mike and Anna sat in bed, a laptop propped up on a stack of pillows between then, the screen filled with excited faces. Rob had insisted on Skyping them before he put their kids to bed.

“So you caught some waves, Otis?”

“Yeah, loads,” said Otis. “I can’t do it by myself yet, but I think tomorrow maybe I will.” He turned to look at Rob for corroboration, and Rob grinned.

“Oh yeah, he’ll be riding them solo in no time. He’s a natural.”

Otis beamed before his twin sisters jostled him out of the frame and started speaking over each other. Something about a sand mermaid and “perrywinkie shells” and how Lola sat on the sand mermaid’s face and “made it FLAT!” and Uncle Joe had to make her a new head.

“That’s lovely, sweetheart,” said Mike. “I’m glad Uncle Joe was there to fix the mermaid.”

“SAND mermaid. She can’t go in the sea like a regular mermaid.”

“Sorry, I meant sand mermaid. You’re all going to be good for Uncle Rob, right?” said Mike. “You’re going to listen to him when it’s time for bed?”

“Yes,” said Otis solemnly. “We will be good.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Anna. “If you’re good, maybe Uncle Rob will be willing to take you for another beach weekend in the future.”

This idea set off an incomprehensible tumult of excited babbling, one of the twins latching onto Rob’s arm and practically swinging on it.

Rob just smiled and shrugged. “Of course,” he said. “They’re no trouble at all.”

Once they had said their goodbyes and put the laptop away, Mike and Anna settled down for an early night. It didn’t seem like Chester or Talinda had any intention of venturing out of the spare room just yet, so there was no need to wait around for them in the living room.

Mike was busy changing into his pyjamas when Anna said “What’s that on your shoulder?” and, not for the first time that day, Mike felt his heart palpitate with anxiety.

“Nothing,” he said, pulling on his pyjama top, but Anna was having none of that. As soon as Mike got into the bed, she yanked the pyjamas away from his shoulder and her eyebrows shot up as she immediately identified the mark for what it was: a very obvious bite from a human being.

“Wow, Mike,” she said. “And you say you didn’t fuck him?”

Mike’s face was the colour of beetroot as he flicked Anna’s hand away and pulled the fabric back over his shoulder.

“You said you didn’t want any details,” he mumbled.

“I don’t,” said Anna, “but we do need to talk about this a bit more, I think. Tomorrow, maybe.”

Mike didn’t know what to say, so he simply switched off the light and lay down, feeling a horrible sense of guilt and shame in the pit of his stomach.

Anna dropped off to sleep within minutes of Mike turning out the light, but Mike lay awake, unable to stop thinking about Chester, and desperate to speak to him, to find out how things were going between him and Talinda.

Anna had spoken to her briefly and in hushed tones when she had gone in to give them some food, but she hadn’t learned much from the exchange. She’d recommended a book, though, and left Talinda reading it while Chester slept.

Mike was just starting to feel his eyelids grow heavy when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps passing the bedroom door and heading down the passage. He lay perfectly still, ears pricked, but the footsteps had faded away. He heard the distant flush of a toilet and guessed that either Chester or Talinda had decided not to use their en suite to avoid waking the other up. Mike waited for the footsteps to return, but several minutes later, he still hadn’t heard anyone coming back down the passage.

Careful not to wake Anna, he slipped out of bed and followed the direction the footsteps had gone. The guest toilet light was off. Nobody in there. He noticed the door to their other spare room — the smaller one that housed another bed along with a whole lot of miscellaneous music equipment, jumbled up against the walls — was slightly open. He stepped inside and saw that Chester was lying on the bed, on top of the covers, all alone. He was wearing his sweatpants and nothing else.

“Ches,” Mike whispered, stepping forward, unsure whether or not he was awake. It was dark, and Mike couldn’t make out Chester’s face.

“Hey Mike,” said Chester, his voice sounding thick and strained.

“You all right? Why are you here?” asked Mike.

“I didn’t want to wake up Talinda,” he said, and Mike could hear the tears in his voice then. He’d been crying.

“Ches…” Mike moved forward in the darkness and felt his way over to the bed, sitting himself down on the edge of it beside his friend. “Ches, what’s wrong?”

“I just feel shitty,” said Chester. “I’m getting the shakes a little bit. She’s being so brave, and I’m such a piece of shit. I don’t deserve her.”

“Stop with that,” said Mike. “You’ve got to stop thinking stuff like that.”

“I can’t help it,” said Chester.

“Can I help it?” said Mike. His eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness and he thought he could see Chester’s eyes glinting slightly, looking up at him. He wanted to see him better though, so twisted the dimmer switch on the bedside lamp just slightly, creating a gentle glow that didn’t hurt their eyes but allowed him to see what he needed to see: Chester’s tired, slightly puffy face, streaked with dried tears.

Mike folded himself onto the bed alongside Chester, putting his arm around him and pulling him in close, pressing his lips against his forehead and revelling in the tingly feeling of Chester’s breath on his neck. It had been less than a day since he’d last held this beautiful man, but it felt like a decade. Chester snuggled himself in closer, resting his cheek on Mike’s chest, and soon he was peacefully asleep.

Mike lay awake, gently stroking Chester’s back. He was so lost in thought and feeling and memories that he didn’t even notice Anna step into the room until she was three paces away from the bed, staring at them.

Mike gave a small start of fright and felt his heart sink. His hand fell still against Chester and he lay frozen, staring at his wife in wide-eyed guilt, waiting for her to say something, trying to read the strange expression on her face. He didn’t recognise it, but it wasn’t a smile.

Moments later, he realised with a stab of anguish that Chester was awake again. He shifted awkwardly against Mike and then spotted Anna standing there. His breath hitched and he looked at her in horror, as though she was a ghost who had just walked in through one of the walls.

No one spoke for several long moments, each trying to work out what was going on in each others’ minds. Then Anna walked up to Mike’s side of the bed, looked Mike straight in the eye and said “Shift over.”

Mike and Chester shifted themselves silently and obediently, opening up a space alongside Mike, where Anna promptly lay down, spooning herself tight against Mike’s back and reaching her arm out to wrap it around both Mike and Chester, pulling them closer together until Mike found himself warmly and comfortably squashed between his wife and his best friend. He and Chester were were still face to face, now staring at each other in stunned disbelief.

Anna tangled her legs with Mike’s, stroked her hand gently up and down Chester’s naked back a couple of times and then mumbled, “Good night.”

*****


	6. Truth or Dare

When Mike woke up the next morning, he found Anna asleep beside him, and a cold, empty gap where Chester had been. He turned to Anna and gently shook her awake.

“Hey,” she said, smiling at him.

He was immediately annoyed by how unfazed she was — how she was acting as though everything was normal.

“Hey,” he said, failing to keep the edge out of his voice. “What the fuck was all this about?”

Anna looked confused for a moment. She tilted her head up, noticed that Chester was no longer in the bed with them and then sank back into the pillow, still smiling.

“I woke up and you were gone. So I went to look for you and I found you in bed with Chester. I felt left out, and I figured… if you can’t beat them, join them.”

“What the hell? Do you know how awkward that was? Chester probably couldn’t wait for us to fall asleep so he could slip away and get back to Talinda.”

“You’re wrong about that. I’m a light sleeper. He only left about half an hour ago. He was here all night. Why are you so angry with me?”

“I just don’t understand why the fuck you did this. He’ll be so weirded out by it. He doesn’t need that in his life right now.”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot. All he needs is his new fuck buddy.”

“I’m not his fuck buddy, Anna.”

“Then what are you? For someone who is neither his partner nor his lover, you’re acting pretty possessive. And why are you so sure he’ll be weirded out? He’s always been more open-minded than you are. Just because you feel weird, doesn’t mean—”

“Where the fuck is all of this coming from? And what about Talinda? How would she feel if she knew you’d spent the night in bed with her husband?”

“You’re making it sound like I gave him a blowjob or something. I joined you for a cuddle. It looked pretty platonic, at least when I walked in. You think Talinda and I have never fallen asleep in each others’ arms before? It happens all the time while you’re on tour, if we’re in the same city and we’re lonely and sad and missing you. It’s not a secret.”

“You… you’ve slept with Talinda?”

“Uh… yes. Literally. We’ve fallen asleep together. I haven’t had sex with her. Just because you can’t separate a physical relationship from a sexual one, doesn’t mean other people are incapable of it.”

“What? None of this makes any sense. You cuddling your friend is not the same thing as you cuddling your friend’s husband, without her knowledge, while your own husband is in the bed with you. That’s just fucking weird, Anna.”

“But why is it weird? Should it be weird? And is it weirder than you coming home to me with a kinky bite from Chester on your shoulder? I was happy, in a way, when I found out you’d been intimate with him because I thought it meant you were learning how to connect with people on different levels. I thought you were becoming more open-minded and I was so ready to jump on that train with you. But it looks like I got it all wrong.”

“Open-minded?!”

“You crossed a line with Chester. Talinda doesn’t know about that. In my head, I see three options. Firstly, you or me or Chester could tell her about what happened. I’m not opposed to this option, but it’s risky, especially right now. I don’t know how she would react. Option two would be that you keep it a secret for the rest of your lives and make sure it never happens again or only happens if you’re certain you won’t be caught. This is the shittiest option. It’s unfair to Talinda and, honestly, if it was happening all the time, it would start to piss me off, because it would be you and Chester having double the intimacy while Talinda and I sit on the sidelines making do with what’s left over. Don’t get me wrong… I could be OK with that for myself, but I’m not OK with it if Talinda isn’t. And she can’t be OK with it if she doesn’t know about it. I’m giving you a pass at the moment because of the circumstances with Chester, but it’s not a long-term solution.”

Mike tried to interject at this point, but Anna raised a finger to silence him.

“And then there’s option three,” she said. “You could start redefining all of your close relationships, including your relationship with Chester, in such a way that whatever you have going on with him becomes accepted and understood and fits into your life in a healthy way that doesn’t hurt anyone else. And the only way I can see for any sort of intimacy with him to possibly work — no guarantees — is if you open it up to me and Talinda instead of blocking us out.”

Mike blinked. “Wait… what are you saying? Are you proposing a foursome?” he said, incredulous.

“I mean, if you strip away every shred of nuance in what I just said and remove all of my focus on platonic intimacy and boil the whole thing down to its crudest and most basic possible form, then yes,” said Anna, rolling her eyes. “I suppose I am.”

“Who are you?” said Mike, and he could see that his words stung her much more than he’d meant them to. She turned away from him, then swung her legs over the edge of the bed, stood up and walked out of the room without a backward glance.

Mike lay there alone in the spare bed, stewing in confused and frustrated thoughts. After some time, he heard someone turn on the shower of the other spare room’s en suite, which was directly on the other side of the wall behind his head. He wondered whether it was Talinda or Chester in the shower and imagined that it was Chester, naked and scrubbing himself only a couple of feet away from him. Mike was losing himself in his imagination when he heard voices coming from inside the shower and realised that the Benningtons must be in there together. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but they were talking and laughing together about something or other.

_Good_ , thought Mike. _At least one of the couples in this house are on good terms right now._

After a few minutes, the indistinct sounds of Chester and Talinda talking in the shower were replaced by something far easier to interpret — vocals mostly lacking in actual words. Mike heaved himself out of the bed and decided to go and organise some breakfast rather than listening in on his friend’s energetic shower liaisons with his wife. He was certain that Talinda wouldn’t appreciate being overheard in that situation, even if Chester might get a kick out of it.

Mike was slightly aggrieved to find Anna in the kitchen, making French toast. He had hoped for some more time alone to process all the stuff she had said to him. She didn’t acknowledge him at all when he sat down at the kitchen table, so he fiddled with his phone instead of speaking to her, scanning through social media and then sending a few texts to Rob.

 

Mike: _Hey Bourdie. Have the kids driven you insane yet? Hope they’re not wrecking your house._

Rob: _All 3 still fast asleep. They’re like tornados when they’re awake, but very sweet. And they think I’m the best thing since sliced bread. It’s great._

Rob: _Let me know if you need me to keep them longer than we planned. It’s no problem. How’s Chaz?_

Mike: _Thanks, dude. Chaz is doing fine. Getting back to his old self._

 

While he was texting with Rob, Anna was humming to herself in the background and frying the eggy bread. It smelled delicious and Mike was wondering if he’d have the willpower to turn it away if she offered him any. He was still frustrated with her, and deeply confused. As he mulled over his messy thoughts, he got a message from Dave.

 

Phoenix: _Hey Mike. Just checking in to find out how Chester’s doing._

Mike: _Hey dude. He’s ok, I think. We’re looking after him._

Phoenix: _Good to hear. Do u think he’d be up for a visitor? Would love to drop by and say hi._

Mike: _I’ll ask him when he’s out of the shower. Might be a while. T’s in there with him._

Phoenix: _lol. ok. tmi…_

 

Chester and Talinda arrived in the kitchen a little while later, looking very awake and refreshed. Talinda’s hair was loose, hanging damp across her shoulders and she had a fluffy dressing gown on over her clothes. Chester appeared to have put on a fresh pair of pyjamas. He clearly had no intention of being productive.

Anna had piled the french toast onto the table along with a bottle of maple syrup, a tub of butter and steaming pot of coffee. She was sitting opposite Mike and playing with her phone while he played on his. They weren’t making eye contact.

“Oh my god,” said Chester. “Are we allowed to have some?”

“Of course!” said Anna. “Sit down. Help yourselves. Did you both sleep alright?”

Mike could barely believe the audacity of this question, but there was no trace of anything untoward in Anna’s voice.

“Yeah,” said Chester. “Great, thanks.”

Chester, like Anna, showed no signs of awkwardness whatsoever, and Mike felt himself bristling. Was he the only one thrown by what had happened the night before? A small, destructive part of him had an urge to blurt it out in front of Talinda and see if anyone felt awkward then, but he didn’t. He simply slapped a few pieces of French toast onto his plate and set about buttering them up.

“I slept well too,” said Talinda, taking a seat at the table. “That bed is super comfortable. This looks amazing, guys, thank you.”

“Oh, it was all Anna,” said Mike, unwilling to take credit for Anna’s work even when he was irritated with her.

“Well, thanks Anna,” said Talinda. “And thanks both of your for having us here. We really appreciate it.”

Anna smiled. “Any time. You two are family.”

“Ches,” said Mike. “Dave wants to know if you’d be up for having a visitor today. He wants to come around.”

“Ahhh, Daaaave,” said Chester, smiling. “Yeah. Sure. If that’s fine with you. It’s your house.”

Mike texted Chester’s response to Dave, and barely a moment later, he had received another text.

 

Phoenix: _2pm fine?_

Mike: _100%. See you then._

 

***

 

Dave arrived three minutes before 2 p.m. and had barely managed to cross the threshold before Chester just about bowled him over with the biggest hug.

“Dude,” said Chester. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you!” said Dave. “You doing OK?”

“I’m doing OK,” said Chester.

Mike, standing a few paces away from them, was relieved at the lack of awkwardness in this exchange. He considered for a moment that perhaps he was more uptight than everyone he knew, and that a lot of what he was worried about was pretty much irrelevant to everyone else. He didn’t get far with the thought though, because Chester and Dave were walking towards him, Dave looking tired, but happy to be reunited with his friend.

Mike considered how stressed out and upset Dave must’ve been since Brad told him about Chester. Dave was and always had been Chester’s number one supporter in the band. Even when Mike was fed up with Chester acting out or misbehaving in one way or another, Dave was always there to defend him, to put his actions into context, to stop anyone from complaining about Chester behind his back. When everyone else was exhausted and incapable of participating in Chester’s high-energy shenanigans, Dave could always be counted on to sing along or make stupid noises or pull silly faces or simply laugh with him so that he didn’t feel alone. Even Joe, grand master of all things silly, didn’t have the energy reserves to keep up with Chester like Dave did.

While Mike’s feelings for Chester were many layered and complex, Dave’s were straightforward. It was unconditional brotherly love. Brad and Mike lost their earrings in the early 2000s, but Chester kept his… and so did Dave. Brad, Mike, Joe and Rob never had any affinity for tattoos, but Chester got more and more of them as the years went by… and so did Dave. There was even a time when Dave had tried out the Chester-style casual mohawk, much to Chester’s delight. “Ginger hawk!” Chester had yelled when he saw it. “It’s not called a ginger hawk, it’s called a phoenix, you idiot!” Dave had retorted, and Chester had fallen about laughing. He’d then spent the rest of that day ambushing Dave with the sole purpose of ruffling the ginger mohawk into a fluffy and unruly mess. Dave, of course, never showed even the faintest trace of annoyance at this.

“Coffee? Tea? Fruit juice? What do you guys want?” said Mike, leading them into the living room where Anna and Talinda were sitting.

“Just water for me, please,” said Dave.

“And me,” said Chester. “But only if you have one of those fizzy vitamins to put in it.”

“Fizzy vitamins!” said Mike. “Yeah, of course.”

They sat in the lounge with their waters and their fizzy vitamins, exchanging idle pleasantries until the women excused themselves for a trip to the mall to get some snacks and stretch their legs.

“Any requests?” asked Anna.

“Sour patch kids!” said Chester.

“How about pizza Pringles?” said Dave.

“Both of those,” said Mike. “And also some M&M’s. Might as well turn this into a kid’s birthday party.”

“You got it,” said Anna, smiling at Mike. Her eyes lingered on his and felt his resistance crumble, and smiled back at her. He couldn’t stay frustrated with her — not now. They’d sort out their issues some other time. Her smile widened as he smiled at her, and everything was right in the world… at least until half an hour later.

Anna and Talinda had left, and Mike, Chester and Dave were chatting merrily when, for some reason, Chester decided to casually check the messages on his phone — something he hadn’t done all day — and then everything fell apart.

It started with an audible hitch in his breath and then he made a choking sound and slapped his hand hard across his own mouth as a shockingly sudden gush of tears started to pour from his eyes as though a pipe had burst in his head. He cried so hard that he could barely breathe and seemed in real danger of actually throwing up. Mike and Dave held him and tried to soothe him as they stared in horror at one another, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

While Chester sobbed and choked, pressing his hands into his eyes, Mike surreptitiously picked up Chester’s phone to see what had set him off. It was a message from his son, Tyler.

 

Ty: _hi Dad just wantto say I hope you are feeling better. I m sorry you wer feeling sick. hope you will be home soon.i miss you . lots of love from tyler :]_

 

“Fuck,” said Chester. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m the fucking worst person ever. I nearly fucking killed myself and I didn’t even think about any of them. Oh my fucking god… Maybe they actually would be better off without me after all, holy fucking SHIT—”

“Shh, Chester stop, stop, you have to stop,” Mike pleaded with him.

Alarmingly, Chester had started hitting his fists hard against his legs, hard enough to leave bruises. Dave tried to grab his hands, but Chester twisted away and put his hands over his face. They were shaking and his fingers curled inwards, his nails digging into his skin.

“Should I call someone?” Dave asked Mike, his voice trembling with fear and sadness.

“No!” Chester yelled. “No, don’t fucking call anyone! Please…” his voice dropped from a scream to a whisper. “Please Dave. Don’t call anyone.”

Mike ran a soothing hand gently up and down Chester’s back and hushed him like a baby, over and over, keeping his voice and his movements slow and calm even though his heart was slamming in his chest and he wanted nothing more than to burst into tears himself. “It’s OK, Chester, it’s fine… you’re fine. Tyler’s fine. Everyone’s fine.”

Slowly but surely, Chester came down, and soon enough he was breathing evenly and sitting still, his hands in his lap and the tears just streaming down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Dave,” said Chester. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Ches, dude, it’s OK,” said Dave, putting his arm around him and giving him a friendly shake. “Stop beating yourself up, OK? It’s breaking my heart into pieces and I only have one of those.”

 

***

 

By the time Talinda and Anna got home, Dave had left without having eaten a single pizza Pringle. Mike had sent him home after Chester fell asleep on the couch, exhausted by his emotional and physical breakdown. Mike was loitering in the entrance hall, waiting for the wives to return. He filled them in on the situation in hushed tones, and was gutted to see the light go out of Talinda’s face. She had seemed so much better that morning, but now she was back at square one.

She went to Chester, knelt beside the couch and stroked his head until he woke up and blinked at her blearily.

“Babe,” he said, registering her unhappy face. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh Ches,” she said. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” said Chester, almost defensively. “I’m fine. Fuck it, Mike, what did you tell her? I’m fine, Talinda. I just need to sleep OK?”

“OK baby,” she said. “I’ll let you sleep.” She looked up at Mike and he nodded. “I’ll be just next door if you need me, OK Ches?”

“Fine,” said Chester. His cheeks were bright red and his eyes were darting between Mike and Talinda. He looked embarrassed and angry, clearly wishing that both of them would disappear instead of staring at him like an endangered zoo animal. Talinda was very obviously on the verge of breaking down herself, and Mike mouthed ‘I’ll stay’ to her, giving her permission to leave the room.

She stroked Chester’s face gently a few more times and then crept away, and Mike heard her start to bawl as soon as she was out of the door.

 

***

 

“I just want a goddamn drink,” said Talinda as Anna enclosed her in a sisterly hug. She pressed her tear-stained face into Anna’s shoulder.

“Let’s have one then,” said Anna. “We can sit in my study.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not? Chester’s the one who can’t touch the stuff, not you. You need to relax and loosen up for a bit. You being on edge is not going to help him at all. We’re looking after both of you, not just him.”

Talinda smiled. “You’re right. That sounds great. Like a girls’ night in.”

“Except it’s only late afternoon.”

“If we keep going long enough, it’ll be night time,” said Talinda with a watery smile.

“True,” said Anna. “You want wine?”

“As long as it’s red.”

“You’re in luck. I’ve got this fantastic merlot…”

 

Two glasses in and Talinda was in a much better frame of mind. The tears had stopped and she was breathing easy, her sad eyes paired with a tentative, hopeful smile. They were sitting in Anna’s study on her elegant red chaise longue, surrounded by bookshelves and framed drawings by the Shinoda children. In one corner was Anna’s writing desk, where she had penned her first novel. The lights were dimmed just enough to take the edge off the brightness, and the room felt like a miniature version of an old library.

“It’s really nice in here,” said Talinda.

“It’s my sanctuary,” said Anna. “I come here whenever I need to think.”

“I need a room like this, except I want mine to have one of those armchairs that give massages.”

“That’s an amazing idea.”

Talinda nodded, lost in thought for a moment. “I need to check on Chester,” she said. “But I’ll come back OK? If he doesn’t want me there. I don’t want to make him upset.”

“Do whatever you need to do, Tali,” Anna smiled. “I’ve got plenty to read in here. I’ll be here if you need me.”

 

Talinda was gone for all of five minutes before she reappeared, looking perfectly calm and peaceful.

“Everything OK then?” asked Anna.

“Yeah,” said Talinda. “They’re watching one of the Transformers movies and reminiscing about a show they did in 2011. I watched them for a while — they didn’t know I was there. Couldn’t bear to interrupt. Chester seems better now. Mike’s really good with him.”

“He is,” said Anna. “And so are you.”

“I don’t know if I’m enough on my own though,” said Talinda, sitting back down on the chaise longue. Her movements were smooth and slow, her cheeks pink and her eyes a little heavy from the wine.

“You are enough,” said Anna. “But you don’t have to be. We’re here for you both.”

“Anna,” said Talinda, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” said Anna.

“I don’t know how to put this without maybe sounding crazy, but… do you think Chester and Mike have ever… like… experimented?”

Anna kept her face neutral and started refilling Talinda’s glass. “Experimented with what?” she asked.

“Like… with each other?”

“You mean physically?”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” said Talinda, eagerly lifting the refilled glass and taking a generous sip. Her lips were stained dark with wine. “I just get a feeling about them sometimes.”

“Would it bother you?” asked Anna, her voice casual and carefully controlled. She took a big sip from her own glass and felt it go straight to her head.

“I don’t know,” said Talinda. “I haven’t really thought about it. I mean, Chester’s always really touchy-feely with everyone. He’s a very sexual person, and his sexuality is pretty fluid. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d tried things out with whoever was willing. Watching him with Mike, I can’t help but think that… that Mike seems like he’d be up for it. But maybe I’m just reading too much into things.”

Anna chewed lightly on her fingernail and looked at Talinda, weighing up her options. Talinda’s brow furrowed as she stared back at her friend, trying to decode the silence. She looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’m thinking,” said Anna.

“Do you know something?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then tell me what you know,” said Talinda.

“What I know is that Chester loves you,” said Anna. “And I also know that, yes, he has experimented physically with Mike.”

Talinda put her wineglass back down on the table.

“How do you know this?” she asked.

“Because Mike told me.”

Talinda’s eyes were glazed over as she tried to process this information. She was visibly intoxicated now, swaying ever so slightly as she sat on the edge of the chaise longue.

“Tali,” said Anna in a gentle voice. “It’s a recent development. Very recent. There’s always been an attraction between them, which you’ve obviously picked up on, but it was only when Mike found Chester in a state on Wednesday night that anything actually happened. Heightened emotional situation. The reason why Chester hasn’t mentioned this to you is because he’s terrified of losing you. He needs you now more than ever.”

“What did they do?” asked Talinda, looking as though she was afraid of what the answer might be.

“I don’t know,” said Anna.

Talinda nodded, picked up her wineglass and emptied it in one gulp.

“I feel incredibly tipsy,” she said.

“Me too,” said Anna. “Are you OK though?”

“I’m fine,” said Talinda. “I’m just trying to get my head around this, but my head isn’t cooperating. It’s just dismissing everything as irrelevant.”

“Maybe it is irrelevant,” said Anna, hopefully.

“So it doesn’t bother you? What Mike told you?”

“No,” said Anna. “I know that what I have with him is real. I don’t feel threatened by whatever he has with Chester. They’ve always had a strange, complicated friendship. You know…”

“I know,” said Talinda, seizing the wine bottle and emptying the last splash of it into her glass.

Anna felt a raw heat on her face as though there was a log fire burning in the room. The wine was scalding through her system now as her heart sped up, making her feel deliciously light-headed and a bit breathless in the tiny room.

“Can I ask you a weird question?” she said, almost before she’d actually decided to say the words out loud.

“Sure, why not,” said Talinda. “We seem to be playing some sort of Truth or Dare. Without the dares.”

Anna laughed. “Yeah. OK, so my question is… do you find Mike attractive?”

“What?” Talinda spluttered. “Where did that come from? That’s awkward.”

“No it’s not,” said Anna. “Straightforward question. I won’t be offended either way. I just want to know.”

“Um…” Talinda blushed and then giggled like a schoolgirl, which set Anna off giggling too.

“Well, obviously I find him attractive,” said Talinda, emboldened by the merlot. “Who wouldn’t? He’s objectively good looking. Why are you asking me this? I’ve never made a move on him or anything.”

“I know that,” Anna laughed. “Relax. I’m not accusing you of anything. I just wanted to know.”

Talinda blinked slowly several times, trying to clear the alcohol fuzz from her head. “So… is it my turn to ask an awkward question now?”

“If you want to,” said Anna. She found she was enjoying this exchange, even though her head was spinning so much she could barely focus her eyes on Talinda’s beautiful face. They weren’t nearly as good at polishing off multiple bottles of wine as they had been a decade ago.

Talinda cast her eyes around the study, trying to find inspiration for a question. She seemed to be taking the game quite seriously. Anna was amused by this.

“OK,” said Talinda, a devious smile playing across her wine-stained lips. “Here’s a question. Do you find me attractive?”

Anna laughed yet again. Already her ribs were hurting from her mirthful reactions to everything that was going on. Talinda, however, did not laugh. She simply held her little smile and waited for the response.

“Uh… yes,” said Anna, realising the truth of it as she said it. “Yes, you’re — how did you put it? — ‘objectively good looking’. By which I mean you’re fucking beautiful.”

Talinda cocked her head to one side, narrowing her eyes at Anna, with that same smile still lingering on her lips. “So,” she said, “if our husbands have been hooking up behind our backs, what’s to stop us from hooking up with each other right here in your writing den?”

“Um…” said Anna. “Nothing, I suppose. Is that what you want?”

“I have no idea what I want,” said Talinda. “I was just thinking out loud. Tit for tat. Or tat for tit, if you know what I mean.” She grinned. “Sorry. I’m quite drunk. My filter’s gone.” She drained her glass again and put it down very slowly, unsure of how far away the surface of the table actually was. Some of her hair had come loose and it fell gracefully across her face. She combed her fingers through it, pushing it back, and looked up at Anna, her eyes warm and dark.

“Did you know that I always wanted to be like you?” she said.

“Like me?” said Anna. “Why? In what way?”

“You’re so smart, with your writing and everything. You’re so articulate and so cute and you’ve got your shit together. You’re the whole package.”

“That’s crazy. You’re going to think I’m just saying this to return the compliment, but seriously… I always wanted to be like you,” said Anna. “You’re the quintessential, perfect rock-star wife. You’re beautiful and strong and you have so much love to give.”

“That’s true,” Talinda sighed. “I have a lot of love to give. Like… too much. I have so much of it in me, it hurts.”

Said in any other way, her words would’ve been funny, but there was nothing funny about them in that moment, even though they were ever so slightly slurred. Her voice was low and serious, and her dark eyes focussed and sincere, despite the effects of the wine. She shifted herself along the chaise longue until she was sitting right next to Anna, their legs almost touching. Anna smiled at Talinda and Talinda smiled back, her face swimming in and out of focus.

“Truth or dare,” said Anna.

Talinda hiccuped and blushed and placed her hand delicately onto Anna’s thigh. “Dare,” she said. “I’ve had enough truth for one day.”

 

*****


	7. New Territory

The credits for _Transformers: Dark of the Moon_ started to roll and Chester sighed.

“You know what my favourite part of this stupid movie is?”

“This part right now, with our song playing?” said Mike.

“Yep, exactly,” said Chester, and started to sing along. “Do you feel coooold and looost in desperaaatioooon…”

Mike snuggled up against Chester, curled an arm around him and gave him a squeeze.

“What’s that for?”

“You’re so cute,” said Mike, nuzzling his nose against Chester’s cheek. “I just want to hug you all the time.”

“Well, I’m sure your wife wouldn’t mind,” said Chester. “She seemed into it last night.”

“Ugh,” said Mike. “I was wondering when you were going to bring that up. What about your wife though?”

Chester sighed again. “I feel really bad. I wasn’t nice to her earlier, was I? I was a mess. I should go and check on her.”

“I’ll do it,” said Mike. “You stay comfy over here and pick another movie, if you want to. Preferably something unaffiliated with Michael Bay.”

 

***

 

Mike peered into Anna's study through the conveniently large keyhole and his stomach lurched.

He couldn’t see the full scene, but he could see enough of it. In the foreground, the low table featured three wine bottles and two glasses, and just behind that was the chaise longue — Mike had always thought it was a rather kinky-looking piece of furniture, and this was now confirmed by what he was witnessing.

Anna was lying back against the curved side of it, and Talinda was on top of her, her hair cascading down, blocking their faces from view. Her blouse was partly unbuttoned and Anna’s hand was inside it, softly cupping one of her breasts.

Mike stumbled back away from the door, breathless.

This was entirely his fault, and he had no room to be upset about it, regardless of why it was happening. Curiosity? Revenge? He hoped it wasn’t the latter. It certainly didn’t seem that way. They’d secreted themselves away, kept it quiet, and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying it.

Mike was ashamed to find himself feeling a bit aroused, despite the fact that he was reeling from what he had just witnessed — in Anna’s study of all places.

He knew that the right thing to do would be to walk away and think about what he was going to tell Chester and what he would say to Anna later on… but instead, he crept forward again and put his eye back against the keyhole.

Talinda had thrown her glossy hair over her shoulder and Mike could see their faces now — Talinda dropping soft, gentle kisses onto Anna’s lips while tracing one of her fingers delicately along Anna’s collarbone. Anna was reacting very favourably to these ministrations and Mike felt an unmistakable and familiar warmth pooling in his groin as he watched his wife’s face become serene with pleasure.

“Fuck,” Mike mumbled and backed off again.

He tiptoed away down the stairs and back to Chester, waiting for him in front of the TV, which was displaying the DVD menu for The Princess Bride.

Chester turned as Mike entered the room, and immediately registered the bulge in his pants. “What’s going on there?” he said.

“You’re not going to fucking believe what I just saw.”

“That framed picture of me outside your studio?”

“Very funny,” said Mike. “No. Something else. If I tell you, do you promise you won’t be upset with anyone?”

“How can I promise that? I don’t just decide to be upset about stuff,” said Chester. He sounded a bit offended. “Just spill it, Mike. Come on.”

“I went to find Anna and Tali — they’re in Anna’s little study with the door closed, and I didn’t want to disturb them if they were in the middle of a serious discussion, so I just peeped through the keyhole. It’s a small room; you can see just about the whole room through that keyhole. I was looking to see whether either of them were crying or anything like that before I knocked on the door.”

“Get to the point, Mike,” said Chester.

“Well, they weren’t crying,” said Mike. “I think Anna must’ve told your wife about us and they decided to even the score.”

“What…?”

“Don’t freak out.”

“What!?”

“They were making out.”

“Anna and Talinda?” Chester’s mouth dropped open. Mike was concerned for a moment about what Chester’s reaction would be once he had recovered from this initial shock, and wondered if he should’ve kept the information to himself for the time being, but he needn’t have worried.

“That’s fucking hot,” said Chester a grin spreading across his face. “Are you serious though?”

“I’m serious.”

Chester stood up. “Show me.”

“Ches, I’m not sure that’s a good idea—”

“Why not? You think we owe them a bit of privacy?”

“Actually yeah, maybe, given how much we’ve done behind their backs, it’s probably the least we could do. Let them figure out where they stand in all this without us perving on them through the keyhole.”

“You mean like you just did.”

Mike blushed. “Yeah…”

“Come on Mike, that’s not fair. I also want to seeee…” He sounded like a petulant child and Mike almost laughed.

“You’re not angry with her then?”

“With Talinda? Of course not. I have no right to be. And anyway, I’ve been encouraging her to make out with other women since I met her.”

“Jesus, you’re such a teenage boy.”

“I can’t help it.”

“Chester… things are getting a bit… weird. Aren’t they?”

Chester shrugged and sat back down on the couch. “We have different ideas about what’s weird, Mike.”

“So you honestly weren’t freaked out about Anna getting into the bed last night.”

“No,” said Chester. “I was surprised, but not freaked out. It was sweet, actually. I felt like she was giving us her blessing.” He laughed.

“For cuddling, maybe,” said Mike. “Not for blowjobs or naked humping. She wasn’t pleased about the bite mark.”

“Shit, she saw it?”

“Yeah, she saw it.”

“I still feel really bad about that,” said Chester, looking away from Mike and rubbing his hand uncomfortably along the back of his neck.

“Don’t,” said Mike. “It’s inconvenient, but it was really hot at the time.”

Chester looked back up at him, his eyes suddenly darker, the trace of a smile playing at corner of his lips. “Everything’s so crazy and sexual right now. We’ve all just lost our minds. Is this a normal reaction to depressing shit? Is it a coping mechanism?”

“I don’t know,” said Mike. “You can ask the therapist when he comes on Tuesday.”

“Maybe it’s a collective mid-life crisis.”

“Maybe it’s a realisation of the fact that we’re all mortal and we only have one shot at this life thing, and we might as well make it interesting,” said Mike.

“Yeah. And we might as well show the people we love how much we love them while we have the chance,” said Chester.

“Would you ever fuck my wife?” asked Mike, out of the blue.

Chester being Chester, he was completely unbothered by the blunt question. “If she wanted me to and you were cool with it, then yeah, sure. I can see where you’re going with this.”

“Seriously though… do you think…?”

“We know Anna’s probably up for anything,” said Chester. “The only wildcard is Talinda, and apparently she’s just taken the first big step in the right direction. I’m so proud.” Chester’s eyes glittered and he bit his lip. “I’m so proud and so horny.”

“Uhnngh, me too,” said Mike. “Hey, maybe you should go to them. Maybe you should just walk right in there, show your approval and drop the idea on them while they’re all turned on and stuff, if they’re still busy. They’d hear you out.”

“What like ‘Hello, ladies. I like what I see. Care to join your husbands for an evening of carnal delights in the master bedroom?’” He said it in a ridiculous, formal British accent, and Mike snorted and laughed so hard his eyes started to water. Chester got up and walked over to him, placing a finger against his smiling lips and then pressing his face forward for a swift, excited kiss. He ran a cheeky hand down Mike’s chest and administered a gentle squeeze to his crotch before stepping away.

“I’m going to try my luck,” he said. “Fuck it. Carpe diem. Why don’t you light some candles? If it doesn’t work out, you can pretend they were just for Anna.”

 

***

 

The kisses were becoming more and more heated, Anna tangling her fingers into Talinda’s long, silky locks, drawing her closer. Their lips parted and they tasted the wine on the tips of each others’ tongues. Anna ran an eager hand over Talinda’s breast, along her stomach and then back up again, feathering her fingertips over her elegant neck and shoulder.

Then, without any warning, the door to the study burst open and there stood Chester. Anna and Talinda sprang apart with simultaneous gasps of horror. Chester, on the other hand, didn’t look in the least bit shocked by what he was seeing; in fact, his face wore an unmistakably greedy expression.

“Sorry,” said Chester, his eyes leaving them for a moment to roam over the empty wine bottles and glasses he had just spotted on the low table in front of them. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Uh… I… I just wanted to know if… Shit, I’m fucking this up.”

“Oh Chester, I’m so sorry,” said Anna. “I didn’t want you to see the alcohol.”

“That’s… that’s OK,” said Chester. “There are… other things to see.”

Talinda was speechless, her shirt undone, her hair all over the place, her wide dark eyes moving back and forth between Anna and her husband.

“Ches, I—”

His was breathing rapidly and his tongue darted along his bottom lip. “Um…” he said. “It looks like you’re having a good time in here, but would you uh… do you maybe want to, um…”

“Ches—?”

“Mike and I would… we wouldn’t be opposed to uh… we would quite like… I mean, if you’re up for it, maybe we could…” his voice died in his throat and his eyes strayed back to the wine glasses.

Anna slipped herself out from underneath Talinda and then took her by the hand and helped her to her feet. She looked into Talinda’s eyes and smiled, then turned to Chester, who was now gazing at them both as though he was hallucinating.

Anna walked over to him, gently pulling Talinda along with her. She took Chester’s hand with her free one and guided both of the Benningtons out of the room, onto the landing, down the stairs and along the darkened corridor. Sunset had recently come and gone, and the house was crowded with shadows.

None of them spoke. The only sounds any of them could hear were the padding of their feet on the floor and the hammering of their own hearts.

The door to the master bedroom was open, and a warm candlelight glow was spilling out of it. Anna led them inside. Mike was sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxer shorts, a shy smile on his face. He caught Chester’s eyes as they entered the room and Chester raised his eyebrows as high as they could go.

Mike had lit at least twenty candles. They were standing in beautiful flickering clusters on the bedside tables and other pieces of furniture around the room, giving the already surreal situation an even more dreamlike quality.

“Is this really happening?” said Talinda.

“Only if you want it to,” said Anna.

“Yeah,” said Chester wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “You can call the shots. Nobody’s going to be upset if you’re uncomfortable with this. We can call it off.”

“It’s new territory for all of us,” said Mike.

Talinda nodded and looked around at each of the others, chewing on her lip, swaying slightly where she stood.

“Ches,” she said.

“Yeah babe?” he replied.

All eyes were on Talinda and she turned to face her husband, drew her lips into a sultry smile and then, without the faintest trace of nervousness or insecurity, said: “I want to see you with Mike.”

 

***

 

Mike’s mind was a shrieking whirlwind. He needed it to stop. He wanted to be wholly present in this moment because, however it turned out, it was a moment the likes of which he might never have an opportunity to experience again.

There was great and terrifying potential at his fingertips, and he didn’t want to squander it by being in a state of bewildered panic.

He closed his eyes, drew in a couple of slow, deep breaths and then opened them again to take in the scene before him.

He was half lying, half sitting on the bed propped up against a pile of pillows, his legs stretched out in front of him. A low-backed armchair had been pulled up alongside the bed, and Talinda was sitting on it watching him, her unbuttoned shirt revealing a dark red bra cupping a pair of perfect, beautiful— _Stop!_

He flicked his eyes away from Talinda and onto Anna, who was standing behind the armchair, one hand resting on Talinda’s shoulder, the other hand softly twirling Talinda’s hair. Anna’s short dark hair was ruffled and adorable, tucked behind one ear in a way that gave her a pixie-like appearance, and her face was lit up with excitement.

And then there was Chester. He was kneeling at the foot of the bed, waiting for someone to tell him what to do. He’d stripped down to his underwear, and his own excitement was very visible beneath this thin, tight layer of grey fabric. He looked at Mike and then his wife and pressed his lips together nervously.

“Go to him,” said Talinda. “Why are you being so shy? This was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Chester crawled obediently across the bed and Mike spread his legs so that Chester could crawl between them. Once he was within range, Mike pulled Chester on top of him, his solid, familiar weight squashing him comfortably into the pile of pillows and forcing a sigh out of him. Chester’s groin was pressed firmly against Mike’s thigh, and Mike felt a subtle twitch against him and smiled.

“There,” said Chester, his voice muffled against Mike’s shoulder. “Happy?”

Talinda’s eyes sparkled and she leaned forward, her face alive with anticipation, while Anna stroked her hair. Chester seemed blissfully relaxed in this position, but Mike felt profoundly self-conscious all of a sudden, as though everyone was waiting for him to do something.

But he was frozen, incapable of making any decisions or taking any action. The whirlwind in his head had rendered him paralysed.

Mike only unfroze when Chester captured his lips and started to kiss him deeply and slowly, the palms of his hands moving firmly up Mike’s arms, across his shoulders, up his neck and onto his jaw.

Mike pressed his hands into Chester’s back, holding him close, grateful for his courage and his beauty and everything about him, inside and out. As the kiss grew more passionate, Mike felt his love for Chester swelling inside him like a giant balloon. He felt drunk on the intensity of it, so much so that tears prickled in the corners of his eyes.

“Do you know how many of your fans are into the idea of this?” said Anna.

“Yes,” said Chester, breaking the kiss for a moment. “I’ve dabbled in the fan fiction.” He kissed Mike again, harder and more intensely. Mike brought his hands up to hold Chester’s head, his thumbs rubbing gently against his shaved hair. He tilted Chester’s head to meld their lips even more deeply together.

“I understand why they’re into it,” said Talinda. “It’s hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Mike’s inhibitions were falling away, brushed aside by Anna and Talinda’s casual commentary and the rising heat of Chester’s body pressed flush against his own. He started to move his hips up gently against Chester and as Chester moaned, he observed Talinda out of the corner of his eye.

She was biting her bottom lip hard, moving her hand over her breasts. Anna leaned forward to whisper something into her ear and Talinda turned to her and kissed her, the sight of this making Mike just as breathless as it had when he’d spied on them through the keyhole of Anna’s study.

When Anna broke the kiss, her eyes went straight to Mike’s and the look on her face said everything. Triumph. She had played an important role in enabling this unprecedented and ridiculous situation, and she was very, very pleased with herself. She grinned at Mike and he couldn’t help grinning back.

“Open-minded enough for you, Anna?” said Mike, cocking his head and raising one eyebrow as Chester moved his lips down to his neck, nipping and licking and chuckling against his skin.

“Yeah,” said Anna, feigning nonchalance. “It’ll do.”

Talinda smiled and suddenly stood up, shedding all of her clothes with a degree of urgency. Chester turned his head to gaze at her — a vision of beauty, the candlelight playing on her tanned skin and silky hair.

“Come,” he said, sliding off of Mike’s body so he was lying alongside him, opening Mike’s other side up for the attentions of the women. “Get involved. There’s plenty to go around.”

Mike laughed, but only for a moment before his lips were smothered by Chester’s once again.

He closed his eyes, let himself melt into the soft insistence of Chester's kiss, felt Chester’s hands on his face and in his hair, and then another pair of hands sliding over his shoulders and his chest, and yet another pair of hands splayed on his stomach, gliding slowly down…

 

*****


	8. Four

The past few days had been a wild ride for Chester.

A tumble into the deepest depression, a loss of all control, a brush with death, a rescue from the brink and then a frenzied rush back into the arms of life — beautiful fucking crazy life, with all of its fear and its wonder, its pain and its pleasure.

Right then, in that moment, in the Shinodas’ house, in their bedroom, in their own goddamn bed, it was about the wonder and the pleasure.

It was about forgetting.

It was about being alive… vulnerable, fragile, perhaps on the very edge of madness, but exquisitely and undeniably alive. Every pulse and every breath, every nerve and every cell.

It was four people caught together in something none of them could’ve fully explained or rationalised, even if they’d tried. It was something bigger than them, greater than the sum of its parts.

Nothing else in the world mattered. Nothing else in the world even existed.

Chester loved them all, and in that moment he was connected intensely to each one of them, but in the centre of the vortex of his consciousness, was Mike. Mike was the one who had caught him before he’d fallen. Mike was the one he’d wanted to have on more levels than were available to him for more years than he cared to remember, and now that the barrier between them had been torn down, he was insatiable. He was desperate. He had catching up to do.

Neither Anna nor Talinda were afforded any opportunity to kiss either of the men, because Chester simply would not take his lips away from Mike’s for more than a few seconds at a time — and he used these seconds to observe important developments in the scene unfolding around him…

Talinda curling both of her hands around Mike’s cock, Anna kissing her way up Talinda’s leg, Talinda taking Anna’s nipple between her soft, wine-stained lips…

Chester wrapped both of his legs around one of Mike’s and pressed himself hard against Mike’s hip, groaning against his lips and trembling — even more when he felt an unidentified set of feminine hands smoothing their way up his thigh and onto his naked backside.

When had his underwear been removed, and by whom? He couldn’t recall.

He pulled away from Mike for a second to look at his face. Mike’s eyes were wide and glazed with euphoria and he gasped for air, his lips wet and swollen from Chester’s attentions. His face was glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat that looked rather beautiful in the candlelight.

Chester then turned to see what was happening at the bottom half of Mike’s body. Between Anna’s mouth and Talinda’s hands, they had him well covered, and when Chester looked back at Mike’s face, he saw that his eyelids had begun to flutter, his eyes were rolling back, his breath was hitching in his throat.

“Stop,” said Chester, and the women fell still, looking at him curiously. “He should be inside someone.”

“Nnnngh,” said Mike, which could’ve signalled either agreement with Chester or frustration at the fact that pleasurable proceedings had been halted. Nobody could be sure.

“Who should he be inside?” said Anna. “Not me. That would be too vanilla.”

Mike couldn’t help laughing at this, his first laugh in what seemed like ages. He’d been too far gone to laugh before, but since Chester had put the brakes on everything for a moment, he was surfacing for air, and sanity.

Chester and Talinda exchanged glances.

“Tali?” said Chester. “Do you want to…?”

“As long as I’m not shattering anyone else’s dreams,” she replied.

“Look, I’m perfectly happy with the idea of Mike fucking me in the ass,” said Chester matter-of-factly, “it’s just that I haven’t exactly done that properly before, and I don’t think it would be a good idea, necessarily, to learn the ropes in front of you two.”

“Fair enough,” said Anna.

“Mike?” said Chester, turning to him. “Thoughts?”

“Honestly,” Mike groaned. “I don’t care. If someone could just… do something… that would be great.”

Talinda glanced at Anna, who smiled and whispered “reverse cowgirl”, and they slid into position, Talinda straddled across Mike’s hips, facing Anna, who was straddled across his thighs. Anna had her hands resting on Talinda’s hips as she raised herself up then and sank slowly down, gasping and squeezing her eyes tightly shut until Mike was fully and deeply inside of her.

“Ahhh,” she breathed. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” Mike mumbled, stroking Talinda’s back.

Chester, watching all of this in rapturous wonder, ran his hand up Talinda’s leg, over Anna’s hand, which was still resting on her hip and then onto Mike’s stomach. He had never imagined he’d ever be in a position where he was watching his best friend fuck his wife — and enjoying it.

Talinda groaned in pleasured pain, and Chester shifted himself down so he could get his hand between her and Anna and touch her in a way he knew would dissolve all of her discomfort.

She was hot and wet and Chester felt a tremble ripple through him as his fingertips brushed the base of Mike’s cock. He’d seen it more than once now and he couldn’t helped being a bit impressed with how well Tali was taking it so far. Granted, she was keeping very still for the moment, allowing herself to adjust. Chester’s practiced, slippery fingertip rubbing exactly the right spot between her legs, Mike’s hands soothing her back, and Anna’s lips planting gentle kisses on her neck were definitely helping.

“OK,” Talinda breathed after a few minutes, and raised herself slowly and gently up before gliding back down, eliciting a deep groan from Mike, who shuddered powerfully beneath her. Anna’s lips found hers again and their tongues met. Chester was mesmerised by their kiss, so much so that he didn’t even notice Anna’s hand moving until it had wrapped around his own length.

“Ahhh…” Chester lay back alongside Mike, his head resting just under Mike’s arm, while Anna touched him. Her hands were different to Talinda’s — still delicate and soft, but more assertive somehow. She was confident in her movements, even though she’d never touched this particular man in this particular way before.

Mike curled his arm around Chester, cradling him against his body. From this vantage point, Chester had a decent view of Talinda riding Mike, rising and falling, her movements still slow and carefully controlled to manage the pain. There was a bead of sweat trickling down her spine.

It was apparent to both Mike and Chester that things between Anna and Talinda were escalating rapidly.

Anna had lifted herself up onto her knees and pressed herself against Talinda, her small, sweat-slicked breasts sliding against Talinda’s larger, fuller ones. One of her hands had ventured between Talinda’s legs while the other one continued to work on Chester. Soon enough, however, she released Chester and tangled the hand into Talinda’s hair instead, their lips coming together in a deep, heated kiss. Chester barely registered that he was no longer being touched, as he was utterly engrossed in what he was witnessing.

Talinda’s movements were speeding up, gaining in confidence, the pain apparently neutralised, the pleasure taking over. Mike was responding to this, raising his hips to meet her as she came down, gasping and moaning. His hands found their way onto her hips and Chester was left completely outside of the action, a spectator to a dream scene — captivated but, for the moment, apparently forgotten.

“Oh, oh, ohhhh…” Talinda gasped, and Chester knew what it meant. Within moments, she was shaking, her rhythm lost, her body only staying upright because Anna was holding her there while Mike pushed himself up into her in deep, slick thrusts, feeling her orgasm pulse around him, drawing moans of ecstasy from both of them and from Anna, who seemed to be experiencing the union vicariously.

Chester fixed his eyes on Mike’s face as Mike reached the edge and tumbled over…

“Oh, god…!” Mike cried out and then, in a broken whisper he said “Chester…” his hand reaching out to find his friend, pulling him close against him once again as his hips slowed and he sank back, gasping, Anna and Talinda collapsing on the other side of him, still entangled and lost in each other.

“Chester,” Mike whispered again, turning to him, kissing his face, pushing him onto his back and sliding his sweaty body on top of him. “Chaz, I love you,” he said under his breath, his lips against Chester’s ear. He traced his tongue along the ear, dipping it experimentally into the cold metal ring of the gauge tunnel he was wearing in his earlobe.

As he nibbled on Chester’s ear and then his neck, he ran his fingers along his face and was surprised to find his cheeks wet with tears.

“Ches?” he looked up.

“I’m sorry,” Chester mumbled. “I just have… so many feelings…”

“Are they good feelings?” he asked breathlessly, his heart still hammering after his orgasm.

“Yes,” said Chester. “They’re very good feelings.”

He pulled Mike into a hug, and whispered into his ear, “I wish you could fuck me like that.”

The words rushed through Mike in a wave of heat. “I could try?” Mike breathed.

Neither Anna nor Talinda seemed even vaguely aware of this exchange, absorbed as they were in their discoveries of each other, the wonder and magic and newness of soft, wet, dick-free intimacy. Anna’s leg was curled around Talinda’s back and Talinda’s fingers had found their way inside of her, and they were, for the moment, somewhere far, far away from Chester and Mike, even if their bodies were occupying the other side of the very same bed.

Chester stroked Mike’s hair and smiled sadly. “No,” he said. “I can’t. There’s… there’s history there, and I can’t. I just… I wish. That’s all.”

Mike kissed his cheek and stroked his tears away. “That’s OK,” said Mike. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t care,” said Chester. “Something. Anything.”

 

*

After what felt like an eternity spent entangled with Talinda, drunk and high on the feeling of her body — the smoothness, the softness, the wetness, the curves — Anna pushed her hair out of her eyes and noticed that her husband was giving head to Chester just a couple of feet away from them. He seemed to be doing it rather expertly, too, as though this wasn’t his first time.

“Wow,” she said, somewhat redundantly.

Talinda had also noticed these proceedings and she closed the distance between them all, pulling Anna long with her, pressing her lips against Chester’s while Anna got to work stroking his shuddering body, tracing his tattoos with her fingertips.

Chester was cast away in a swirling sea of bliss. It was better than any high he’d ever had, senses overlapping and blurring together, emotions and sensations fusing, a feeling of overwhelming love and happiness expanding within him, growing like a wildfire that was catching on a seemingly infinite supply of kindling.

Mike’s tongue, lips, hands; lapping, sucking, stroking; sending the fire crackling up through his body to be fuelled by the kisses and touches of beautiful Anna and his own beautiful Talinda. They were all focussed on him, channelling their love and affection for him into their actions and their words, none of which he could understand on a semantic level, but which he understood perfectly well on an emotional one.

They loved him. They cared about him. He was important to them. They were happy that he was alive. They wanted him there. They were open, uninhibited, unashamed of their feelings. They wanted him to know how they felt, and he did. It was undeniable, and the tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he reached a climax unlike anything he’d ever experienced in a life of both legal and illegal highs.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t remember where he was or figure out the parameters of his own body. Where did he end? Where did Mike and Anna and Talinda begin? Were they all, in fact, one person? He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

The ocean crashed over him again, and again, and again and when the tide finally withdrew and the candlelit room began to flicker back into focus, he found himself warmly and safely enclosed by three bodies; underneath, beside and on top of him; and embraced by three sets of arms — and he felt warmer and safer and happier than he had ever felt in his life.

“Are you OK, Chester?” said one of them — he wasn’t sure which one. Perhaps it had been all three of them at once.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Everything’s fine.”

 

*****


	9. The Morning After

Brad: _Hey. Spoke to Dave. He told me about Chester’s episode yesterday. Is he ok now?_

Brad: _???_

* _1 missed call from Brad Delson_ *

* _2 missed calls from Brad Delson_ *

Brad: _Answer your fucking phone, Mike_

* _3 missed calls from Brad Delson_ *

Brad: _It’s after 9 in the damn morning. Anna not picking up either. I don’t want to call Chaz._

Brad: _FFS. I’m coming over. Get the kettle on._

 

***

 

Brad stood at Mike and Anna’s front door. He tried calling Mike one more time, but once again, it rang straight through to voice mail — _Heyyy, you’ve reached Mike. If it’s important, leave a message. Otherwise, leave a text!_ — so he stuffed his phone irritably into his hoodie pocket and hammered his fist on the door.

After what felt like ten minutes, the door was unlocked, rather slowly, from the inside and it creaked open to reveal Anna in her dressing gown. It was really more of a silky kimono, and Brad didn’t have to look very hard to guess that she had nothing on underneath it. He could feel his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“Hey,” said Anna. She sounded sleepy. “What’s up, Brad?”

“I tried calling,” he said. “I called you and I called Mike about a hundred times, but nobody—”

“Oh, we were in bed,” said Anna. “Sorry.”

“Since when does Mike go to bed without his phone next to him? Normally I can reach him from seven onwards…”

Anna shrugged. “Want to come in?”

“Uh... sure,” said Brad. “Is Mike up now?”

“No, he’s still in bed,” said Anna.

“And Chester?”

The ghost of a smile passed across Anna's sleepy face. “He’s in bed too,” she said.

Brad stepped into the house as Anna opened the door wider for him.

“Is everything OK?” said Brad.

“Yes, Brad, everything’s fine,” said Anna. “I’ll make you coffee. Or tea. Or a smoothie. What would you like?” She shut the door behind him and started shambling her way towards the kitchen. Brad followed, perplexed, in her wake.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he said.

“Smoothie, then,” said Anna. “I’m hungover.”

“Oh,” said Brad. “Is anyone else hungover?”

“Just me and Talinda,” said Anna. “We hit the booze. She needed it. Obviously I wouldn’t let Chester touch the stuff, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I take it Talinda’s in bed then too.”

“Yes,” said Anna with a yawn. “They’re all in the bed.”

Brad blinked. _They’re all in the bed._

Anna started pulling things out of the fridge, arranging them on the counter top, rubbing her eyes and yawning intermittently.

“Anna,” said Brad.

“Yeah, Brad,” said Anna, tossing a handful of raspberries into a blender.

“We tell each other things,” said Brad. “We always have.”

“Yeah, and?” said Anna, peeling a banana.

“Well, it’s something I think has served us both quite well, over the years. And I wouldn’t want it to stop being a thing.”

“Mmm hmm,” she said, twisting the leafy bit from a strawberry and tossing it back into the punnet.

“Sooo…” said Brad. “What are you not telling me right now?”

“Ugh, Brad, I’m tired,” said Anna. “My head is pounding. Cut me some slack. And anyway, I’ve never told you everything. Just some things.”

“So there is something you’re not telling me.”

Anna turned to look at him, her arms crossed and her brow furrowed. He was sitting at the kitchen table with that classic Brad expression on his face: judgemental, smug, superior, all-knowing. Except he wasn’t all-knowing, and he knew it.

“What do you want to know?” she said.

“I want to know what you meant when you said ‘They’re all in the bed.’”

Anna’s cheeks reddened and she turned back to her smoothie-making, seizing the carton of soy milk with something akin to aggression and sloshing it ferociously into the blender. Brad tried to speak, but she turned the blender on right at that moment, drowning out his voice. He waited.

Anna retrieved a couple of tall glasses from a cupboard and filled them with banana berry smoothie, placing one on the table in front of Brad. She sat down opposite him.

“Brad,” she said. “There are things you don’t need to know.”

“What if I want to know them?”

“You can’t always get what you want,” she said.

Brad smiled and took a sip of the smoothie. “This is great,” he said. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” said Anna, and they fell into a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, but wasn’t entirely relaxed either.

“Here’s my hypothesis,” said Brad, after some time. “You and Talinda got drunk, walked in on Mike and Chester getting cosy with each other and decided to join in, and then you all woke up in the same bed and now you’re mildly freaking out because you have gaps in your memory and—”

“No,” said Anna. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

“You are mildly freaking out though.”

“Yeah, but that’s because I’m being interrogated while hungover, first thing in the fucking morning. I have no gaps in my memory.”

“Cool,” said Brad. “So tell me what happened then.”

“Why do you want to know?”

Brad raised a cynical eyebrow. “For the same reason I always want to know things. I’m curious and I care. I feel like I can make better choices as a friend if I’m armed with all the facts. Context matters, you know.”

Anna laughed. “You skipped the part about how you’re also a bit of a kinky pervert.”

“So you’re saying that kinky, perverted things happened in your bed last night.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t you love to know.”

“I would, yeah,” he said. “That’s why I’m asking.”

Anna sighed, then suddenly hissed, “Shut up, someone’s coming.”

It was Talinda. She stepped awkwardly into the kitchen, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Um, hi Brad,” she said, uncomfortably.

“Hey Tali,” he said. “How are you?”

“I’m… well, thanks,” she said, blushing, glancing at Anna and then at the floor. She was wearing a fluffy dressing gown that was many sizes to big for her. Brad thought he recognised it as Mike’s, but wasn’t sure.

“There’s some fruit smoothie in the blender,” said Anna. “You should definitely have some.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Talinda. “Got any aspirin?”

 

***

 

Mike heard the banging on the door, heard Anna get up to answer it, assumed it was a delivery or something equally inconsequential, and went back to sleep. He woke up again a little later as Talinda slipped out from underneath the covers. Pretending he was still asleep, he watched her feel her way around the darkened room and saw her pick up his dressing gown from the floor and wrap it around herself before she crept out of the door.

_She’s going to find Anna_ , he thought, imagining the two of them snuggled up together on the couch, drinking tea and watching the morning news. He smiled to himself.

Chester was lying beside him in the foetal position, fast asleep and snoring gently. One of his hands was curled up against his face. He looked childlike and innocent but he also had fine lines at the corners of his eyes and even the first signs of balding in the thinning consistency of his shaved hair — reminders of his age. He always seemed eternally youthful, yet he was undeniably mortal.

Mike’s heart ached.

He ran his fingertip delicately along Chester’s shoulder and down his arm, following the lines of his pisces tattoo. With a small groan, Chester tossed in his sleep, turning himself over so that his head was resting against Mike’s body, his breathing warm and slow against Mike’s skin.

Mike moved his hand onto Chester’s head, stroking his hair, running his thumb along the edge of his ear. His skin was so smooth. He placed his fingertip on Chester’s bottom lip and ran it gently back and forth over the petal-soft skin until Chester scrunched up his nose and opened his eyes. He looked up at Mike and smiled, then darted the tip of his tongue out to touch the finger that was still lingering at his lips.

“Morning, Chaz,” said Mike.

“Morning,” said Chester, wriggling himself closer to Mike, nestling his head against Mike’s chest and slinging an arm across his stomach. “How long were you watching me sleep?”

“A while,” said Mike. He slid his arm around Chester, squeezing him close, letting his fingers dance along his side and onto his hip.

Chester was quiet and still, but he wasn’t falling asleep again. Mike could sense his alertness, the ticking of his mind.

“Mike,” said Chester, after a few minutes. “Are you falling in love with me or something?”

“I’ve always loved you, Chaz, I told you that.”

“That’s not what I mean,” said Chester.

Mike knew what he meant.

Shit. What was going on? What was this feeling, this tightness in his chest, this tension in his throat, like a ball of words he couldn’t swallow but couldn’t say either? Why did he feel as though he could cry at any moment? Why did the sight of Chester curled up against him, gentle and soft and warm, make him ache like this?

He felt Chester’s eyes on him and glanced down to see him gazing up, smiling.

“It’s OK, you don’t have to say anything else,” said Chester.

“I have loads I want to say,” said Mike. “I just don’t know where to start.”

“Start by telling me what you think about last night.”

“Um. It’s a bit of a blur. But it was good. Right?”

Chester's smile broadened. “Oh, it was definitely good.”

“You don’t feel weird about it?” asked Mike, sailing his hand up and down the smooth expanse of Chester’s back, feeling his skin react with goosebumps. He pulled the duvet cover up, shielding them both against the slight chill in the morning air.

“No,” said Chester. “I don’t feel weird. The only thing I’m wondering about is whether it was a once-off, or if it’s the start of something.”

“What do you want it to be?”

“I want whatever makes everyone happy.”

“What makes you happy?”

“Love makes me happy,” said Chester, looking away from Mike, a touch of colour blooming on his cheeks. “I… I heard you, last night. Maybe you thought I didn’t, because of everything that was going on and because I didn’t respond, but you said you loved me. And you said it in a different way to how you’ve said it before.”

Mike was silent and continued to stroke Chester, casting his mind back to the night, remembering the moment of euphoria where, despite his physical connection with Talinda and, to a lesser extent, Anna, his mind had been filled above all else with thoughts of Chester — happy, sad, painful, beautiful, desperate thoughts, swirling together at a hundred miles an hour — and he’d reached for Chester as he’d come down, kissed him, held him, whispered the words into his ear…

“Maybe I misinterpreted it,” said Chester, quietly, “or it came out wrong in the heat of the moment or—”

“No,” said Mike. “No, I definitely am falling in love with you." He coughed. "Or actually, it's already happened. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Oh…” said Chester.

“And I don’t know how or what that means or anything, but… yeah.”

“You’ve never had these feelings for another guy.”

“No,” said Mike. “Not even once. So my head’s kind of all over the place.”

“I’m sorry,” said Chester. “That must be really confusing.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Mike smiled, pressing his lips to Chester’s head. “It’s cool, I mean… honestly, I thought I was too old to discover anything new about myself, especially something like this. I’m learning. And I’m unlearning. It’s exciting.”

Mike nuzzled his nose against Chester’s hair, breathing in the smell of him, revelling in the warmth and weight of his body pressed against him, feeling him breathe, sensing the beat of his heart so near to his own.

“I’ve always had feelings for everyone, anyone,” said Chester. “But whenever it was a man, I sort of pushed the feelings away. I thought I was only having those feelings because I got messed up as a kid, like it was some sort of… side effect. That it wasn’t real. I thought I was broken. I guess I was, but just not in the way I was telling myself. And then there was you, and I knew it was real. It wasn’t a side effect of anything. Letting this whole thing happen has been so fucking therapeutic for me.” He looked up at Mike and his eyes were moist. “Seriously. It’s like I’m being myself — being honest with myself — for the first time in my life. Last night was the happiest I’ve been in as long as I can remember.”

Mike wrapped both arms around him and hugged him and held him and pressed tiny kisses onto his forehead and felt as though his heart might explode right out of his chest.

 

***

 

“So Chester’s OK then, after yesterday’s episode?” said Brad. “Dave told me about it.”

“We didn’t see it happen,” said Talinda. “We were out. He’d fallen asleep by the time we got back, but Mike said he got really badly triggered and just melted down and started hurting himself.” Her lip quivered. “He’s all right now.”

Brad nodded and scratched his beard. “Is there anything I can do to help? I feel so useless.”

“Actually, yeah,” said Anna. “I was thinking of visiting Rob and the kids today — with you, Tali, if you’re keen — but maybe you can take Mike and Chester out of the house for a bit, Brad. They’ve been cooped up.”

Brad nodded, smiling, pleased to be entrusted with some responsibility. “That’s a great idea,” he said.

“Sounds great to me,” said Talinda. “I’ll go shower and get dressed so long.”

She left the kitchen with a smile, leaving Anna and Brad alone once again.

“Sooo,” said Brad.

“So what?” said Anna. “Go and wake up your friends, Brad. I’m going to clean up. This conversation is over.” She said it with a smile, but her tone was firm and Brad sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “Thanks for the smoothie.”

He made his way down the corridor towards the master bedroom, wondering what he would discover inside and if it would answer any of his questions. The door was pulled shut, but not completely, and instead of knocking, Brad nudged the door slightly, creating a narrow gap for him to peer through. What he saw in the dim light of the bedroom was not wholly unexpected, but it still punched the wind out of him slightly. It was Chester lying half on top of Mike, and kissing him. And not just any sort of kiss, either. His hands were in Mike’s hair, his eyes were closed, his lips were open, and Mike… It was the sight of Mike that really affected Brad. Seeing Chester in any sort of compromising position would hardly be surprising to anyone who knew him, but Mike… Mike! The way his hands were resting on the back of Chester’s neck and between his shoulder blades, the way he was reciprocating Chester’s kiss — it was all so tender, so gentle, so unexpectedly pure.

Stepping back slightly, Brad knocked on the door, and waited.

“Yeah?” came Mike’s voice, breaking slightly.

“Hey, Mike, it’s Brad. Can I come in?”

“Uhhh… Brad?”

“I know Chester’s in there too, it’s OK.”

“Yeah, come in,” said Chester’s voice, without a trace of hesitation, and Brad smiled to himself, pushing the door open and stepping into the room.

Mike and Chester had broken apart and were lying under the duvet with about a foot of space between them as though they hadn’t just been locked at the lips moments before. Mike’s acting was fairly poor, but Chester’s was flawless and Brad considered that perhaps it was because he wasn’t acting at all; he simply didn’t give a shit what Brad thought about anything.

“Anna said I should wake you up,” said Brad, by way of an explanation. “I tried to call you earlier, Mike, but you weren’t answering your phone, so I came by to check up on you all.”

“N’awww,” said Chester. “Sweet.”

“Sorry,” said Mike. “I don’t know where I left my phone, actually. Probably on the couch.”

“Anyway,” said Brad, scuffing his foot against the carpet, taking in the sight of the various items of clothing strewn around the bed, including but not limited to a pair of grey underpants, a red bra and some boxer shorts. “You guys want to go for a drive or something? Anna said it would be good to get you out of the house for a bit. She and Talinda are going to visit Rob.”

“Yeah, good idea,” said Chester. “Do you want to shower first, or should I?” he said to Mike.

“You can go first,” said Mike, and Chester smiled and slipped out of the bed. He was naked as the day he was born, and he walked casually and shamelessly, right past Brad and into the en suite bathroom, closing the door with a click behind him.

Mike’s face was the colour of the raspberries after they had been put through the blender.

“Anna won’t tell me what happened here last night, but I think I get the idea,” said Brad. “I’ll wait for you in the living room, yeah?”

 

***

 

“So, guys,” said Brad, clipping his seatbelt in and turning to Mike who was in the passenger seat and then to Chester who in the back. “Where do you want to go?”

“The beach,” said Chester.

“Fuck yeah,” said Mike. “Let’s go to the beach. I’ll text Dave and Joe. Rob’s busy.”

“Poor Rob,” said Chester.

“My kids are adorable, Chester,” said Mike. “Rob’s having a great time with them. But yeah, I owe him one.”

“You owe him more than one, bro,” said Brad. “Your kids are Shinodas.”

“What does that mean?” Mike laughed.

“It means they’re cute, but impossible,” said Chester.

“Exactly,” said Brad. “Chester knows.”

Mike pulled a face at him. “Let me just run back inside and get some beach things,” he said. “I’ll be two minutes.”

Alone in the car with Chester, Brad went into immediate interrogation mode.

“So, what happened last night?” he asked. “Anna was very cryptic.”

“Oh, we had an orgy,” said Chester. “All four of us. It was dope.”

“Um.”

“Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Uh.”

“Do you feel left out?”

“No,” said Brad. “Why did you tell me that?”

Brad saw Chester shrug as he watched him in the rear-view mirror. “Because you asked?” He started fiddling with the window button, buzzing it up and down, allowing the morning breeze to gust into the car.

“Yeahhh,” said Brad. “I suppose I did. I just wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt about it. So who started it?”

“Well, Anna and Tali got smashed and started hooking up in Anna’s study and Mike saw them and then I decided to go in there and just… suggest an orgy, seeing as they were halfway there already.” He laughed as if it was nothing. Perhaps, to him, it was.

“And they went for it?”

“Yeah,” said Chester. “Yeah, they fucking did.”

“Jesus Christ, Ches. Your life is wild.”

“It sure is,” he replied, and Brad noted the hints of pride and satisfaction in his tone of voice. “And it’s about to get wilder.”

Mike had emerged from the house carrying a tog bag and a large, multicoloured inflatable ring with a unicorn head, wings and a tail.

“OK then,” said Brad. “Beach time.”

 

*****


	10. Barnacles

“We need to talk about last night,” said Anna, reversing out of the driveway.

“Yeah…” Talinda sighed. “We do. I’m sorry… I know you’ve been wanting to talk about it since we woke up, but I’ve been avoiding it. I just feel…” she twirled her hand around in the air a few times, searching for a word. “…awkward? Uncomfortable. Guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“I feel like I committed a crime.”

“What? Why?” Anna stole a glance at Talinda. She was facing forward, but didn’t seem to be looking out of the window. Her eyes were downcast.

“I slept with your husband.”

“But we all wanted that!”

“Yeah, and it was… good, but… but there’s a part of me that’s been conditioned to see what we did as wrong, and I can’t switch that part of me off completely, even though I know that it shouldn’t apply in this situation. I was fine in the moment, but now… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look Mike in the eye….”

“Oh, Tali, I’m so sorry you feel like this.”

“Me too,” said Talinda. “I’m trying not to. It’s just that I’m not… I’m not as laid-back as the rest of you. I’m not as chilled out. I was, last night, and I thought ‘hey! this is new, I could be this person, I like this!’ But when I woke up this morning, I just felt really ashamed. Back to my old self. It sucks.”

Anna was silent. She couldn’t deny the pain that Talinda’s words were causing her, and they were also giving her a new sense of guilt, that it was all her fault, that she’d put Talinda into a situation she was uncomfortable with and had caused her harm as a result.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” said Talinda, seeming to sense Anna’s unhappiness with the way the discussion had gone. “Even though I’m feeling like this right now, if I could go back to yesterday afternoon, I would still let it all play out in the same way. It was good. And it was very good for Chester, and that’s the most important thing.”

“You’re equally important,” said Anna, stealing another glance at Talinda just as Talinda shrugged in response. “It’s not a shrugging matter, Tali. I’m stating a plain fact.”

“Thanks, Anna,” she said.

They were silent for a while, Talinda watching the lazy Sunday-morning traffic, fiddling with one of her earrings. She was lost in thought. At the next red light, she started speaking again.

“I really do wish I was more like you, but… I’m just not confident like that. I hated every second of modelling because it always made me feel so crap about myself afterwards. I think the only way I would ever be able to get back into bed with three people again would be if I was drunk like I was last night, and I don’t think that’s healthy. I had to try it out. And I’m glad I did. But I don’t think it’s going to happen again.” She sighed. “Too many eyes,” she said, almost as if she was speaking to herself. “That’s the problem. Too many people can see me. I need to be one on one. That’s what makes me comfortable. I’m better at connecting like that.”

Anna nodded, and reached over to squeeze Talinda’s arm before putting her hand safely back on the wheel. “We’re all different,” she said. “There’s no shame in that.”

“Also…” said Talinda, “I can barely walk today. Jesus.”

Anna stifled a laugh.

“Seriously, like, how do you…” Talinda flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Never mind.”

“Tali,” said Anna, turning a corner into a leafy street lined with large, rustic-looking houses. “I want to ask you something. And I want you to be honest with me. Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Okay?”

“Okay,” said Talinda.

“You said you’re more comfortable connecting with somebody one on one. Did you mean Chester specifically, or do you think you’d be open to one-on-one experiences with other people?”

Talinda contemplated this for a few minutes as they cruised lazily down the street.

“I think I’d be open to it,” she said. “If it was something Chester and I agreed on. If he was connecting with people other than me, then I would want the freedom to do it too. I think it would keep us from coming to blows over it. And, honestly… I enjoyed the sex last night, when I was in the moment, but I think I enjoyed my time with you in the study even more.”

Anna’s face slid into a wide smile that she made no effort whatsoever to disguise.

Talinda blushed and swatted her on the shoulder. “You’re either the worst influence or the best one,” she said, laughing. “I can never figure out which.”

 

***

 

“Aaaand we’re here,” said Brad, totally unnecessarily, parking the car in an empty bay right next to the sand.

“I should’ve put my trunks on at the house,” said Mike.

“There’s a changing room right there,” said Chester, pointing. “Let’s go.”

The beach was quiet for a Sunday. There were a few swimmers in the surf and some people lying on beach towels, and kids playing with buckets and spades, but most of the beachgoers were fully clothed walkers, out for a stroll, and the atmosphere was relaxed and peaceful. It wasn’t a particularly warm day, and there was a bit of a breeze, so Mike thought perhaps most people had decided to do something with their last day of the weekend that didn’t involve getting sand in their eyes.

The changing room was deserted except for one old man taking off his speedo. He acknowledged them warmly as they entered the salty-smelling concrete room, with its warped benches and crusty showerheads.

“Lovely day, boys!” said the old man, seemingly indifferent to the fact that his wrinkled, naked backside was on display for all to see.

“Wonderful, yes,” said Chester happily, stripping down without hesitation, while Brad and Mike stood near the entrance, shifting from foot to foot and smiling awkwardly.

After what seemed like an unnecessarily long time, the old man was fully dressed, and he bid them farewell and left the changing block with a cheery wave.

“What are you guys waiting for?” said Chester. He was in a pair of Mike’s old swimming trunks — bright green with blue hibiscus flowers. They were too big for him, but safely held in place with a luminous green drawstring.

Mike smiled at him and shook his head, heart swelling with affection that he couldn’t adequately express in this filthy public place, with Brad standing right next to him.

“Hurry up, will you?” said Chester. “I’ll meet you in the sea.”

He abandoned his clothes and shoes for the others to deal with, and dashed out of the changing room into the sunshine.

 

***

 

Anna parked the car in front of Rob’s house. It was a beautiful place, the front wall covered in lush creepers, heavy with summer flowers. As soon as she opened the car door, she could smell the flowers and hear the bees buzzing between them.

“The kids are never going to want to leave here,” she said. “It’s so nice.”

“I’m sure they miss you though,” said Talinda, as they made their way up the cobbled pathway to Rob’s front door.

“Not yet,” said Anna. “Hasn’t been long enough. And Rob’s the cool uncle. He doesn’t even know how to raise his voice. Not that he’d ever want to, anyway.”

Talinda knocked on the door and it it was soon answered by Rob, bespectacled and smiling, tucking his long hair behind his ear. He was wearing faded jeans and a dark button-up shirt, and he smelled of wonderfully strong, masculine soap. The grey streaks in his hair and beard gave him an air of laid-back ruggedness.

After the night of unprecedented sexual discovery, Anna was highly attuned to all things physical, and couldn't help acknowledging how attractive Rob was, momentarily imagining a group scene in which he was involved...

“Hey,” he said, snapping Anna out of her thoughts. He hugged them both and they went inside, Anna feeling half disappointed and half relieved that her kids weren’t waiting for her, desperate to give her hugs and begging her to take them home.

“They’re in the back garden,” said Rob, as though reading her mind. “They’re gardening.”

“Gardening?”

“Well…” Rob laughed. “I’m being liberal with the term.”

“Oh god,” said Anna. “Are they wrecking your beautiful plants?”

“Nothing that can’t be fixed later. It’s all good fun,” said Rob. “Tea?”

Both Anna and Talinda accepted the offer of a tea, even though they knew it would be some strange-coloured herbal concoction without milk, Rob being the band’s only vegan.

They settled in the sun on the back porch and the kids came scrambling across the lawn, covered in mud and grass. The twins had their hands full of uprooted bulbs and they held them up excitedly for Anna and Talinda to inspect before rushing back into the garden, screeching.

“They’re making a soup,” Otis explained.

“A soup?” Anna looked at Rob, who laughed.

“Yeah,” he said. “With the root vegetables. In the birdbath.”

“Oh god…”

“It’s fine,” said Rob. “What have you got there, Otis?”

The boy was cupping his hands around something and he stepped forward, slowly raising his hands up to Rob’s face and opening them to reveal a long, thick earthworm writhing around in a mess of damp soil.

“Wow,” said Rob, sounding genuinely impressed. “That’s a big one.”

“It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen,” said Otis proudly.

“Did you know they’re very good for the plants?” said Rob. “They move the soil around so the air can get in there. They keep it all nice and mixed up, like little underground farmers.”

“Cool,” said Otis.

“Yeah,” said Rob. “Very cool.”

When Otis had left to find his sisters in amongst all the greenery, Anna fixed Rob with a serious expression.

“Rob,” she said. “Do you want to keep them forever?”

“Oh I couldn’t possibly,” he smiled. “Otis is not a fan of bean burgers.”

They fell silent for a while, watching the kids appear and disappear between the bushes, listening to their happy voices and the sound of birdsong, the topic of Chester quickly becoming unavoidable and settling onto them like an invisible weight.

“How is he?” said Rob.

“He’s fine,” said Talinda. “He’s going to be fine.”

“I’m glad,” said Rob. “And I’m so sorry. These past few days must’ve been terrible.” He saw a look pass momentarily between Anna and Talinda, but couldn’t decipher it.

 

***

 

By the time Mike and Brad were dressed and ready for swimming, Dave had arrived and joined Chester in the sea, and Joe was just emerging from his car wearing a full wetsuit and a diving mask with a snorkel.

Mike, with the inflatable unicorn ring under his arm, turned to Brad.

“Ches and Dave are already racing each other, Joe’s going to be under water searching for sunken treasure, I’m going to be chilling out on the unicorn… what the hell are you going to do?” said Mike.

Brad shrugged. “I’ll make sure nobody drowns.”

“Good luck with that,” said Mike and raced across the sand, wading into the sea, stepping into the unicorn ring and letting himself float as soon as he was in deep enough.

As it happened, Joe had a spare diving mask and snorkel and Brad joined him in exploring the shallows and the sheltered pools between the rocks, accidentally ingesting a fair amount of sea water but also marvelling at the abundance and diversity of marine life that he had never seen in this way before.

Chester had seemed completely focussed on his race with Dave, and even seemed to be giving Dave a run for his money as they powered freestyle back and forth between a rocky outcrop and a bobbing bouy, but as soon as Mike was in the sea, Chester lost his focus, quit the race, gave Dave a friendly high-five and swam to Mike, smiling from ear to ear.

“You want the unicorn?” asked Mike as Chester doggy-paddled his way over to him and started treading water alongside him.

“Nah,” said Chester. “I’m a better swimmer than you. You need it more.”

“Or we could share it,” said Mike, half-joking.

Chester raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that big of a ring, Mike. It would be a tight squeeze.”

Mike grinned and shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said.

The next thing he knew, Chester had ducked under the water and propelled himself forward. Mike felt Chester’s hands on his waist as he pulled himself up using Mike’s body for leverage and squeezing himself into the ring from below. It really wasn’t big enough for the both of them, and Mike found himself pressed tight against Chester, who was smiling at him triumphantly, his face only inches away from Mike’s. Their stomachs and chests were touching and Mike felt suddenly warm despite the coldness of the water and the breeze blowing over it, the unicorn ring binding them close together.

“Chaz…” he murmured. “They can see us…”

“This was your idea, Mike,” said Chester, smiling innocently.

Dave had completed his laps and he came cruising over to them, laughing. “Room for one more?” he joked.

“Uh, absolutely not,” said Mike. “I should’ve brought more unicorns with me…”

Chester had realised that the heavy-duty inflatable was actually buoyant enough to support them without him even treading water, and so had allowed his body to relax, resting his armpits on the ring, putting his head back and letting his legs dangle below.

Mike was trying to hold a casual conversation with Dave, which was difficult enough with Chester’s stomach pressed up against his, but became even harder when Chester started stroking his legs with with his foot, all the while staring up into the blue sky above as if he wasn’t doing anything of the sort. What neither of them realised was that Brad, snorkelling his way around a boulder to join Joe in an unexplored area, was witnessing this with absolute clarity through Joe’s spare diving mask.

Brad watched, amused and also taken aback at the sheer boldness of it, as Chester’s toes ran up and down Mike’s calves and then Chester put one of his legs between Mike’s and slowly lifted it up, bending it at the knee until his thigh was making solid contact with Mike’s crotch, at which point Brad decided to stop his covert observation and look at more sea anemones with Joe instead.

Mike, meanwhile, was having a hard time in more ways than one. The frothy, slightly murky and gently rising and falling swells of the sheltered bay they were floating in was disguising Chester’s underwater actions from Dave quite effectively, but Mike was struggling to keep his composure above the water. As if to make fun of his predicament, Chester had actually closed his eyes and was pretending to doze, his head lolling back lazily on the unicorn ring.

“So I was thinking we should sign up for a group marathon,” Dave was saying. “Something to raise a bit of a money for MFR…”

“Mmm hmm…” said Mike, as Chester’s leg pressed more firmly into his groin, moving from side to side, responding to the inconvenient reactions in Mike’s body with more pressure rather than a tactful withdrawal.

“I mean, if you’re not super into running, we could do something else, or just me and Ches could do the run and you guys could be involved in some other capacity—”

Just then, Brad emerged from the water some distance away and called out, “Hey, Dave, you should come check this out!”

_Thank you, Brad, you beautiful motherfucker_ , thought Mike, as Dave gave a shrug and a smile and then sprinted off across the swells to join the others.

Chester opened one eye to peep at Mike and Mike slapped him on the arm.

“Chester, fucking hell…”

“What?” said Chester, slipping one of his arms into the ring and guiding it down Mike’s front and straight into his swimming trunks.

“Chester!” Mike hissed.

“You don’t want me to?”

But Mike did want him to. He couldn’t possibly tell him to stop, even though it was reckless and inappropriate. He had never had someone touch his dick while he was floating in the ocean, supported by an inflatable unicorn, and he thought it seemed like something worth adding to his list of life experiences — a list that had very recently become much more colourful and interesting than it had been for the first forty years of his life.

The warmth of Chester’s hand contrasted with the coldness of the water — a strange and exciting sensation. Chester watched Mike’s face intently. They were far enough away from the shore that the people on the sand were indistinct figures in the distance, but Dave, Brad and Joe were too close for comfort.

“One of them could sneak up on us underwater,” Mike breathed. “They’ve got goggles, Ches. Goggles!”

Chester just smiled and tightened his grip on Mike, moving his hand quicker, still managing to appear completely casual above the surface.

“Ches,” said Mike. He had intended it as the beginning of another plea for rationality or as a reprimand, but it came out sounding deeply sexual and Chester couldn’t help laughing.

“Are you getting off on this?” Mike breathed.

“In my own way, yeah,” said Chester.

Mike couldn’t help smiling slightly at the look on Chester’s face. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, and Mike surrendered to his eager touch. He no longer felt as though he was floating in the sea, held above the water by an inflatable unicorn ring — he felt as though he was floating in the air on a warm, magical breeze. He closed his eyes for a moment and randomly imagined that he was on the back of a real unicorn, dashing across a rainbow. _What the fuck? It’s like he’s making me high._ Chester moved his hand faster and faster until Mike stifled a groan and shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his lips together to stop any sound from escaping him. “Fff… fucking hell, Chester…”

Chester’s hand retreated carefully, and he threw his arm over the ring again, putting his head back and sighing happily, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

“Lovely day, isn’t it, Mike?”

“Yeah,” said Mike, trying desperately to catch his breath, as he had just realised that Brad was starting to swim towards them, having apparently relinquished his diving mask to Dave. The sea felt like bath water around Mike now, as though the heat of his body had turned everything tropical. He felt limp and heavy and hot and deeply relaxed in body despite the fact that he was not particularly relaxed in mind.

Brad arrived at the unicorn ring after a few minutes — he was not as strong a swimmer as Dave — and held onto it so that he didn’t have to tread water.

“You guys,” he said. “You’re not being particularly discreet.”

Mike’s face coloured and he said nothing, but Chester, somewhat predictably, just laughed.

“They didn’t notice,” said Brad, “but they could’ve. Do you care if they find out…?”

“No,” said Chester, at exactly the same moment as Mike said “Yeah.”

“Okay…” said Brad. “Well, I guess you’ll need to figure that one out.”

“Chaz, can I speak to Mike for a sec?”

“Sure,” said Chester, lifting both arms into the air and slipping down under the water, surfacing outside the ring alongside Brad. “She’s all yours,” he said, indicating the space he’d vacated inside the ring.

“I’m not getting in there with Mike,” Brad scoffed.

“Your choice,” said Chester. “But I recommend it.” He winked and took off across the water with a sloppy but quick freestyle, heading in the direction of Joe and Dave, who had disappeared behind a cluster of boulders to inspect some particularly gnarly barnacles.

“Mike,” said Brad. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“What?”

“Whatever it is you have going on with Chester.”

“Did you see his face, Brad? He’s happy. If he’s happy, I’m happy.”

“He told me about last night,” said Brad. “Not that he really needed to. It was kind of obvious from the clothes all over your bedroom.”

Mike sighed. “Are you judging us, Brad?”

“Not at all,” said Brad, resting his chin on the inflatable ring. “I just want to make sure you’ve… you know… thought this through.”

“I haven’t thought it through, no,” said Mike. “I’m figuring it out as I go along, and so is he. And so is Anna. And Talinda. But I’m here for Chester no matter what. I will protect him until the day I die. I won’t let him get hurt.”

Just then, a panicked shout came from somewhere near the rocks, and Mike and Brad snapped their heads around to see Joe waving his hands around frantically .

“Mike! Miiiike!” Joe shouted. “Bring the unicorn! Quickly! Chester’s hurt!”

 

*

 

It was the gnarly barnacles. Chester had slipped on a rock and torn his foot wide open on a cluster of the stupid creatures before he’d even had a chance to look at them through the diving mask. The blood was pumping out of him, staining the water a sickening red in a growing cloud around his body while his face grew pale. Joe had been trying and failing to tear off a piece of his wetsuit to serve as a bandage, but was having no luck ripping the thick fabric, and in a panic, Dave had stripped off his own swimming trunks and tied them as tightly as he could around Chester’s foot, leaving himself completely naked apart from the diving mask on top his head.

“Oh fucking hell, Ches, oh my god, are you okay?” Mike choked as he arrived at the scene.

Mike and Dave lifted Chester carefully onto the unicorn ring, his legs up on either side of the unicorn’s head, elevating the injured foot as much as possible. Already, Dave’s shorts were soaked through with blood. Brad was swimming for the shore as fast as he could — which wasn’t particularly fast, but he’d still reach it long before they would. As soon as his feet were on the sand, he started yelling in the direction of the nearest beachwalkers, urgently requesting the use of a phone.

Mike, Dave and Joe floated Chester towards the beach quickly but carefully, Mike stroking Chester’s face and murmuring reassuring things to him and occasionally planting small kisses on his forehead, oblivious and indifferent to the looks that Joe and Dave were giving him, and each other.

“I’ll be fine, Mike,” Chester was saying, but his voice was weak and the deathly pallor of his face was unnerving, to say the least.

By the time they got Chester onto the beach, a pair of lifeguards had arrived with a first-aid kit and an ambulance was on its way. Someone was kind enough to hand Dave a towel so that he didn’t have stand there butt naked as the drama unfolded.

Within ten minutes, Chester had passed out and was being lifted into the back of an ambulance, and Mike was scrambling in after him, still wearing his swimming trunks, abandoning Brad, Dave, Joe and the unicorn. The paramedics had bandaged Chester’s foot up tightly and wrapped him in blankets, and he was stable and safe, but would have to be taken into the hospital for stitches and recovery.

Mike was scared. He was scared of how Chester would feel when he woke up. He was scared of the way his own heart was thundering in his chest. He’d seen Chester hurt many times before, but now it was different. Over these last few days, Chester’s emotional fragility was clearer and closer to the surface than it had ever been in the past. He’d been deeply depressed by his injuries before, and Mike could only hope that this one would heal before it could do any damage to his mind. _It’s not a broken bone_ , he told himself. _It will heal quickly._

His desire for Chester to be healthy and happy and whole was so strong that it crowded everything else out of his head. His focus was singular. His love was overwhelming. He crouched beside Chester as the paramedics fed a drip into his arm and stroked his head. His shaved hair was gritty with salt and sand and his face was still so pale from blood-loss and shock. His eyes were closed but his lips were parted and he was breathing slowly.

“Oh, baby…” Mike murmured, the affectionate pet name tumbling from his mouth as though he’d said it a thousand times before, as though it wasn’t a nickname he’d made fun of other people for using. “Life’s just not fucking fair.”

Ignoring the paramedics, who were offering him a robe and requesting that he take a seat and strap in as they drove out of the parking lot, Mike pressed his lips to Chester’s temple and said “I love you, Chaz.”

 

*****


	11. Uncomfortable Truths

Talinda stepped into the waiting room and took in the scene before her: Chester and Mike sitting side by side on the uncomfortable-looking chairs, both wearing hospital-issue pyjamas, Chester with his left foot bound thickly in bandages, his bare toes peeking out the end. He had his head resting on Mike’s shoulder and he appeared to be asleep.

Mike looked up at Talinda as she moved towards them; she could see the colour rising in his cheeks and could feel the same thing happening to her. She knew that both of them, at that very moment, were remembering the night before, images of their intimate union flashing across their minds. Talinda remembered the taste of Anna’s lips and the feel of Mike inside her, the fireworks going off in her head, Anna’s hands sliding over her breasts, following the line of her ribs, pulling her in close…

“Tali,” said Mike quietly, reaching out for her hand, which she gave to him, and he squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry. It was such a random thing. He slipped on some barnacles–”

Talinda smiled. “It’s not your fault, Mike. He’s always been accident prone. We all know that.”

“I know,” said Mike. “It’s such a terrible wound though. It’s really deep. He had loads of stitches, and he twisted the ankle too, so it’s all sprained and swollen up. Thankfully he didn’t break it again, but it’s a bad injury. I just wanted him to have a good day. I was meant to look out for him.”

Chester stirred against him and opened his eyes. “I am having a good day,” he mumbled. “It’s a very good day.” He turned his head and looked at Talinda, blinking blearily several times. “Oh hello, Tali,” he said, smiling. “I’m sorry about this. I’m an idiot.”

Talinda bent down to hug him and he buried his face in her shoulder.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“No,” he laughed. “They gave me good drugs. I feel… wonderful.”

“Let’s get you home, okay? Get you comfortable. Before the drugs wear off.”

“Home?” said Chester, sounding slightly panicked.

“Yeah,” said Talinda. “Well, I mean, back to Mike’s house. That’s our home for now.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” said Chester, and seemed to relax. Mike tried to get him standing up with the aid of crutches, but he was too woozy from the painkillers, and eventually Mike and Talinda simply got his arms over their shoulders and helped him to hop outside to the waiting car.

They strapped him into the backseat like a child and tucked the blankets around him, and before they were even strapped in themselves, he had gone back to sleep.

Talinda drove in silence for a while, and it wasn’t an easy silence. Why had she agreed to drive Anna’s car to the hospital instead of getting Anna to fetch them instead? _He’s my husband. Of course it should be me who fetches him_ , she berated herself. _But this is so awkward…_

“Shit,” said Mike suddenly, finally breaking the silence. “I left everything at the beach. The clothes, towels, valuables. And the unicorn.”

“Relax – Brad’s got everything,” said Talinda. “He’s waiting for us at the house, actually.”

“Why didn’t he come with you?” Mike asked, immediately regretting the question.

“He wanted to give us space,” said Talinda. “I’m sorry – I… This is awkward for me too.”

A long moment of uncomfortable silence was broken by both of them speaking at once–

“Talinda–”

“Mike–”

Talinda sighed. “Ugh. It’s me who’s making it awkward. I already spoke to Anna about this. I have no regrets, it’s just that… I can’t help feeling weird.”

“It’s okay,” said Mike. “I understand. And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m sorry if we pressured you, or if I… hurt you.”

“You didn’t pressure me. Or hurt me. Like I said to Anna, I have no regrets, and I had a good time, but I’m still uncomfortable about it anyway. I feel like I’m a different when I’m sober and the sun’s up, you know?”

“It’s fine,” said Mike, giving her a quick smile as she turned to look at him. But there was a part of him that was worried. Did this mean Talinda didn’t want any sort of open relationship? And if so, would that mean that she’d want him to stop being intimate with Chester? There was no way that was going to happen, but without her blessing, things would get complicated and ugly and he didn’t want that. He cared about her and he wanted her to understand.

Talinda seemed to sense this concern in him, and addressed it head-on, unaware that Chester had woken up in the back seat, his eyes still closed and his body still.

“Mike,” she said. “Just because I’m not sure about orgies, doesn’t mean I want to go back to straight-forward monogamy. Last night was a game-changer. For all of us. There’s no denying that.”

“I don’t understand,” said Mike.

“I’m saying that group sex makes me uncomfortable; that I feel weird about people watching me... But I’m not saying that we need to cancel all these new experiences. Least of all the connection between you and Chester. I get it. You love him. He loves you. And I love him. And he loves me too. And I… well I–”

“And you love Anna,” said Mike.

He saw Talinda’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. She blushed and swallowed and bit her lip for a moment.

“Something like that,” she said, quietly. “I didn’t realise the extent of it, until last night. But…”

Mike smiled. “Everything’s going to fine, Tali,” he said. “More fine than it’s ever been.”

 

***

 

Brad and Anna were in the driveway when they arrived back at the house. After a confused commotion of hugs and greetings, everyone simultaneously tried to help Chester out of the car and into the house, as though he was completely incapacitated. The number of arms and concerned faces quickly became overwhelming, and Chester batted them all away from him, laughing.

“I’m fine!” he said. “I’m fine. I’ll hobble.”

He wasn’t quite as fine as he thought he was, though, and it was lucky that Brad was hovering right next to him when he lost his footing and started to topple over. Brad caught him under the arm and Mike moved in under his other arm and they practically carried him into the house, depositing him onto the spare bed to sleep off the rest of the drugs. Talinda stayed with him while Brad and the Shinodas went to the kitchen in search of coffee.

“Thanks for bringing all our stuff back, Brad,” said Mike.

“No problem,” said Brad. “I used your shower and stole a pair of your sweatpants as payment.”

Mike looked at the oversized sweats that Brad was wearing and recognised them as his own.

“Okay…?” he said.

“Dave was naked, so I gave him my cargo shorts,” Brad explained. “He drove to the beach in his swimming trunks and they got soaked in blood. He threw them out. He had nothing else with him to drive home in. Just imagine him stopping at a pedestrian crossing…”

Mike snorted. “Right.”

Anna handed them each a steaming mug of coffee and they sat down around the kitchen table to drink it, Mike downing his as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. He immediately felt perked up and he was inspired to lean over and give Anna a big hug. She ruffled his hair and Brad smiled and they all sat in amiable silence until the coffees were finished.

“It’s my turn to shower,” said Mike. “I’ve got sand everywhere.”

And so for the second time that day, Brad and Anna found themselves alone in the kitchen.

“Well,” said Brad. “Chester told me everything you wouldn’t tell me this morning.”

“Of course he did,” said Anna, clearing up the mugs.

“Got anything to add?” asked Brad.

“Not really,” said Anna. “Unless you and Elisa are keen for an invitation…”

Brad laughed. “Thanks but no thanks. I am curious though — who fucked who?”

“Jesus, Brad.”

“Come on… Tell me!”

Anna looked into his eager face and contemplated telling him to fuck off, which was what he was probably expecting, but decided instead to take him by surprise with a truth bomb.

“Mike did most of the work,” she said, casually. “He fucked Talinda and then gave Chester a really great blowjob. I played a supporting role and I made out with Tali a lot. She fingered me.”

Brad’s face blanched. “Oh,” he said. “That’s the second time today I’ve demanded information and then been surprised when it was given to me.”

Anna rolled her eyes at him.

“Sooo… you and Talinda," said Brad. "That’s a concept.”

“Rein it in, Brad.”

“I’m just saying.”

 

***

 

By the time Mike had emerged from the shower, fresh and dressed in his own pyjamas, Brad had left and Talinda had joined Anna in the kitchen.

“How is he?” he asked Talinda.

“He’s fine,” she said. “He’s having a bath. Leg over the side and all that. He’ll need to change his bandages later.”

“We were thinking,” said Anna, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking up at Mike with a small smile on her lips. “Maybe Tali and I could go out this evening. She hasn’t been to that little Italian place I love so much.”

“Yeah,” said Mike. “You should do that. I can look after Chaz. I’ll make sure he doesn’t slip on any more barnacles.”

A moment passed between Anna and Talinda, and it was not lost on Mike. They knew he was eager for alone-time with Chester and they didn’t seem to mind. It occurred to Mike that they were eager for alone time with each other too. His mind raced with memories of what he’d seen through the keyhole of Anna’s study.

“You should wear that red dress, Anna” Mike found himself saying. “You haven’t ever worn it out before. It’s just hanging there in the cupboard. It’s beautiful, Tali, you’ll love it…”

 

***

 

“So what are we going to do?” asked Chester the moment Mike came back into the room after seeing Anna and Talinda off for their night out. He was sitting on the couch wearing a fluffy bathrobe, his freshly bandaged foot up on the ottoman, with a cushion underneath it.

Mike sat down beside him and turned on the television, sound muted. “We could play boardgames, or watch a movie, or—”

“Or we could make out,” said Chester, his face lighting up with excitement.

“So why did you ask me for suggestions if you already knew what you wanted to do?” Mike laughed.

“I wanted to know what you had in mind first, but your ideas are boring as fuck.”

“I hadn’t even finished listing my ideas,” said Mike.

Chester raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Okay,” he said. “So what was next on your list?”

Heart fluttering, Mike brushed the fluffy robe off of Chester’s shoulder and pressed his lips softly into the crook of his neck, feeling him shiver at the contact. Mike opened his mouth and bit down delicately on the soft skin, touching his tongue to the bite before pulling away.

“Something like that,” he said sitting back. “But, you know, my ideas are boring as fuck, so never mind—”

Chester’s hands were on him like lightning, pulling him back by the collar of his shirt, smashing their faces together. Mike smiled into the kiss, letting Chester’s tongue slide between his lips, revelling in the newly bathed smell of him, the feeling of his fingers working their way into his hair. Chester was in an awkward position, twisting himself sideways in order to keep his injured leg on the ottoman, and Mike was worried that the leg was going to slip off and smack into the floor. He gently pulled away from Chester’s enthusiastic kiss and said “Let’s get you more comfortable.”

Chester grinned. “Hmm. Okay. Serious business, this. Got to do it right.”

“Of course.”

Mike helped Chester move his legs onto the couch, positioning them across his lap before curling his left arm around Chester's back and drawing him close. Chester only had to turn his head slightly to bring their lips back together, which he did, softly, gently, sweetly — at first.

The kiss quickly became heated, Chester opening his mouth and venturing forth boldly with his tongue, his nose squashed flat against Mike’s cheek, his hands finding their way back into Mike’s hair and pulling his face closer, pressing them together with such intensity that it almost hurt. Almost.

With Chester’s legs across Mike’s lap, Mike knew that his arousal was obvious, and was not surprised when Chester shifted himself forward so that he was sitting right in his lap, pressing down into him, taking his breath away. He put his hand inside Chester’s fluffy robe, placing his warm palm against the silky smooth skin of his side and stroking down onto his hip.

When they broke the kiss to get some air, Mike ran a thumb over Chester’s lips, resting it on the tiny scar below his bottom lip.

“Is this piercing still open?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said Chester. “I haven’t tied to put anything through there in years. Why?”

“No reason,” Mike shrugged, gently stroking with the hand that was still on Chester’s hip, massaging the skin, worrying the band of his boxer shorts.

“If it was still pierced, would you want me to put a ring in it?” asked Chester.

Mike shrugged again. “Maybe. Just… out of interest.”

Chester narrowed his eyes. “Explain this interest to me.”

“Well, I used to always wonder… I was always fascinated by the lip ring. I used to wonder… you know.”

“Wonder what?”

“You know.”

“I don’t know, Mike, but that’s okay. I’ll use my imagination.”

Chester moved back in for another kiss, carefully manoeuvring himself so that he was straddled across Mike’s lap, legs apart, knees bent, bandaged foot resting over the edge of the couch. It was in many ways like that first night on that other couch, but in even more ways, it was different. It had been only a few days since that initial connection, but it felt like an eternity. There was already a degree of familiarity to the intimacy. Chester’s weight in Mike’s lap felt comfortable. The taste of his lips and the touch of his hands were no longer part of the unknown. Mike had the shape of his face mapped out by sight and by touch. Their hearts beat as though they had always been in sync.

The robe had come completely undone and Mike pushed it from Chester’s shoulders. Chester allowed it to slide down his arms and onto the floor, his skin already textured with goosebumps.

He stared into Mike’s eyes and Mike stared into his and they were still and silent, thinking the same thoughts, feeling the same feelings, time standing still.

“Chester,” said Mike, resting both of his hands on the singer’s hips. “I don’t even know how to explain what I’m feeling right now.”

Chester smiled. “Maybe you could explain without using words?”

“But… I like using words,” said Mike. “I want you to know—”

“I know,” said Chester. “Don’t worry. I know.”

As Chester’s lips captured Mike’s once again, Mike moved his hands onto the curve of Chester’s back and slowly down, slipping them into his boxers and letting them come to rest on his warm, smooth backside. Chester chuckled into the kiss, pushing his hands under Mike’s shirt, bringing his fingertips up to tease at his nipples. Mike reacted with an almost involuntary movement of his hips, pressing up against Chester in response to the rapidly mounting pressure building between their bodies.

“I want more,” Chester breathed, moving the kiss to Mike’s jaw, nipping at his ear.

“I can give you more,” said Mike. “I’ll give you anything you want.” Without really thinking it through, Mike moved one of his hands, sliding it inwards along the curve of the cheek, venturing his fingertips into the cleft of Chester’s ass. He didn’t know what to expect from this, but the reaction he got wasn’t one he would’ve guessed. It certainly wasn’t the reaction he wanted. Chester jerked away from his hand pulling up suddenly, snapping his head away from Mike’s and letting out a little gasp of shock. The suddenness of his movement — a movement that one might associate with fear or pain — caused him to jolt his bandaged foot against the couch, and he winced.

“Fuck, Chaz, I’m sorry,” said Mike. “I didn’t mean. I don’t— I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t know what exactly he’d done wrong, but something definitely was not right. An angry blush had spread across Chester’s features and his eyes were downcast, his lips pressed tightly together, his body folding itself inwards slightly as though he was bracing himself against something. He looked for all the world as though he was about to cry.

“Chaz…” said Mike. He’d pulled his hands quickly out of Chester’s boxers and now he placed them on his back instead, pulling him slowly and carefully in for a warm, comforting, almost platonic hug. It might’ve been platonic if it weren’t for the blatant erections pressing against each other. As Mike held him, he could feel Chester’s heart pounding hard, and hear his rapid breathing gradually beginning to slow as he melted into the embrace.

“Are you okay…?”

“I’m fine,” said Chester. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. It’s not you.”

“But it is me. I’m the only person here with you.”

Chester shook his head. “I wish that was true,” he said. “But sometimes…” he tapped his finger against his head. “Sometimes there are other people too. I don’t invite them, but they arrive anyway. I carry them around in my head. One in particular.”

Mike swallowed hard. He knew what this was about and his heart ached.

“Chaz… I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. I forgot…”

“You didn’t know,” said Chester. “Hell, even I didn’t know. I never know when it’s going to happen. I just… for a second, I just… It was him instead of you.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Please stop saying sorry, Mike. That only makes me feel worse.”

“What can I do to make you feel better?”

Chester answered him with more kissing — deep, hot, wet, needy kissing — kissing with an edge of desperation — weaponised kissing. Mike sighed and moaned into it, feeling Chester begin to rock gently against him, the pressure sending sparks of pleasure from his dick all way up to his brain.

Then suddenly Chester had taken his lips away from Mike’s. His hips continued to push against him as he started to speak, a torrent of admissions delivered in rapid, breathless bursts.

“It just sucks because… I want more, I want so much more… I want it all… I want everything. When I was watching you fuck Talinda I thought… fuck… I thought… I want to know what that’s like. What it’s like to be fucked by someone who loves me and cares about me… I thought… I want to give you everything, I want to let you have me in every single way… I want to feel you inside me… I want it so much… I’ve thought about it, for years, imagined giving myself to you… imagined… and… and I thought maybe, maybe, maaaybe I could be okay, and just get over it, you know?… but no. No. It’s not fucking fair. It’s not… it’s not fair…”

He buried his face in Mike’s shoulder, continuing to thrust his hips against Mike’s. Mike put one of his hands onto Chester’s stomach, feeling the muscles moving beneath his silky skin, feeling the heat radiating from him, feeling Chester’s tears soak through his shirt.

“Oh, Chaz,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry. You’re right. It’s not fair. But we don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I’m happy with whatever you’re happy with. I don’t need anything in particular. I just need you.”

His words didn’t seem to have any effect on Chester’s emotional state. He continued to cry and to hump him relentlessly at the same time, and Mike felt a bewildering combination heartbroken and horny.

“And anyway…” Mike found himself thinking out loud. “Who says you have to be bottom? You could always fuck me instead, if you wanted to.” _Shit, where the hell did that come from?_

Chester looked up, his tear-stained face confused and questioning.

“What…?”

“Just because you’re beautiful and small and soft and practically hairless, doesn’t mean you have to be bottom,” said Mike, the idea rolling around in his head like a snowball, gathering weight, growing from a tiny scrap of nothing into something quite substantial. “I… I have nothing against the idea of being on the bottom.”

Chester’s hips slowed to a stop and he stared at Mike. “I didn’t even consider the possibility of that, you know,” he said. “I always felt like… I’ve always assumed…” He rubbed his head with the palm of his hand, his face twisted in contemplation. “I’ve always just felt like a natural submissive. I’m even submissive with Talinda. I can’t imagine…”

“Well, why don’t you try to imagine?” said Mike. “Think about it and see if you like the idea. If you don’t, that’s fine. If you do, well, maybe we can give it a try some time, and if it doesn’t work out, that’s still fine. Like I said, I don’t care. I just need you.”

“Okay,” said Chester, his hips starting to move again.

Mike let his head fall back against the couch and Chester immediately pressed his lips against the tanned skin, licking at Mike’s throat, feeling his pulse against his tongue, his hands gripping Mike’s shoulders as his hips began to move faster and faster until he was jerking frantically back and forth, moaning into Mike’s neck. _He's not nearly as submissive as he thinks he is..._ Mike mused.

Soon enough, they were both caught up in the tumbling pleasure of a simultaneous orgasm, Chester trembling and dissolving into Mike’s lap as Mike thrust up against him, crying out, the warm wetness soaking through their clothes, their foreheads coming together, the tips of their noses touching, their hearts pounding in unison, their minds revelling in the present but also looking to the future, with uncertainty, with excitement, with love.

 

*****


	12. To Happiness

Mike and Chester were sweaty and cum-stained, sprawled on the couch, catching their breath. Barely half an hour had passed since Anna and Talinda had left the house, and they had already achieved their first orgasms of the night, and Mike could tell from the glint in Chester’s eyes that he was not done. The evening was only just beginning.

“Sooo… have you made a decision yet?” Mike teased, poking Chester in the ribs. “You wanna fuck me?”

“I have made a decision,” said Chester. He wasn’t joking, either, and Mike dropped his grin, arranging his face into a more appropriate expression of interest.

“And the answer is no, I don’t want to fuck you,” said Chester. “At least not right now.”

“Okay,” said Mike.

“I don’t want to fuck. I want to be fucked,” said Chester.

“Um…” said Mike. “But…”

“I know,” said Chester. “I’m messed up. I have some PTSD or something like that. I know. But that’s why I want it. I’m done with being a victim. I won’t let him win. He wrecked so much of my life already. I won’t let him ruin this too.”

“Ches—”

“I want you to override him, Mike. Please. Make me forget about him. Fuck him right out of my head.”

“Ches, I don’t think that’s—”

“Please, Mike,” said Chester, his eyes suddenly blazing with desperate need. “Please.”

 

***

 

“To happiness,” said Talinda, raising her glass of champagne.

Anna smiled and clinked their glasses together. “To happiness.”

They were sitting at a small, round table in a cosy corner at Anna’s new favourite Italian restaurant, candlelight glinting off the cutlery, the mouthwatering smell of flavoursome food and the low hum of contented voices all around them.

“This has been by far the craziest weekend of my life,” said Talinda.

“I’m going to be sad when it ends,” said Anna.

“Me too, “ said Talinda, her smile faltering. She put her glass down and stared into her food for a moment. “I’m scared, Anna.”

“What are you scared of?”

“The kids are going to come over here and I’m going to have to go to that house with Chester and look after him and keep him happy and be a mom at the same time and I’m so scared I’m going to fuck it up. I’m not ready.”

“We’ll be a phone call or a short drive away, Tali. Any time you need us.”

This didn’t seem to reassure Talinda in the slightest. She lifted a forkful of risotto up to her lips and then put it back down again.

“Come on, Tali,” said Anna. “We just toasted to happiness a minute ago.”

“I am happy,” said Talinda. “That’s the thing. I’m happy now. I’m happy here. And I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to go back to life the way it was. It was far from perfect even then, but now, with everything that’s happened, and with Chester… now things are less secure. I’m not strong enough to keep everything stabilised. All these kids and a suicidal husband… I’m so scared.”

Anna reached across the table and took Talinda’s hand in her own. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing, but kept her eyes on Talinda’s face until she looked up and their eyes met. The candle flickered between them, the light catching in their eyes.

“I can’t do it, Anna,” she said.

“You can,” said Anna. “You’re one of the strongest people I know.”

“Maybe I can,” said Talinda. “But I don’t want to…”

Anna squeezed Talinda’s hand reassuringly, and Talinda gave a small sob of laughter before shaking her head as though to clear the dark thoughts away.

“What do you think Mike and Chester are doing right now?” she said, trying to sound more upbeat.

“I don’t particularly care, if I’m being honest,” said Anna, and the hint of a smile passed across Talinda’s lips.

“I don’t think I care either,” said Talinda. “Which is crazy, really. Because it’s probably sexual, let’s face it, and a week ago, I would’ve cared a lot about that. If I’d thought something like that had been going on, I would’ve been completely fixated on it. I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else.”

“Maybe it’s because you nearly lost him, and your priorities are totally different now.”

“Yeah,” said Talinda. “And maybe it’s also because now… I’m developing other fixations…”

 

***

 

Uncertainty gripped at Mike’s throat as he tore the seal from a fresh bottle of lube. They were in one of the spare rooms now — not the one that the Benningtons were sharing — and they’d closed the door behind them. If Anna and Talinda were to come home sooner than expected, they’d at least have a little bit of time to disentangle themselves, if they decided that was necessary.

“Smells like cherries,” Chester mumbled as Mike popped the lube bottle open. “When did you buy this?”

“A while ago,” Mike admitted. “Never needed it though.”

Chester snorted. “Yeah, your wife is something else.”

Mike blushed and refrained from commenting. He busied himself, coating his fingers in the sweet-smelling gel before lying down beside Chester, facing him. He hesitated, and Chester moved forward and kissed him, encouraging him with a nervous but excited smile playing on his lips. And so Mike slipped his hand between Chester’s thighs, slowly reaching, searching, watching Chester’s face with anxious intensity as he pressed one finger carefully against his entrance. Chester’s eyes shut themselves tightly and he immediately began to breathe heavily through his nose, the smile vanishing and his face growing pinched with fear.

“Ches,” Mike whispered. “Open your eyes. Breathe.”

Chester opened his eyes and found Mike’s face right up close. The deep, soulful eyes staring into his seemed to calm him immediately, and his whole body slackened slightly, a slow breath escaping between his lips as Mike very gently pressed the tip of his finger inside. He was ready for the spasm of shock that jerked through Chester’s body, but he stayed calm and kept his position, holding the eye-contact and breathing deeply, waiting for Chester’s breathing to fall back into sync with his own.

“It’s me, Chester,” he said softly. “It’s just me.”

Chester nodded slightly and bit his lip hard as Mike pushed the finger in further, drawing it back out fractionally before pushing it in further still, and continuing this gradual penetration until the finger was inside up to the second joint, gripped by the tight heat of Chester’s body.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Chester’s eyes were shut again and his chest was rising and falling too quickly. “Yes,” he murmured. I’m okay.”

Mike nuzzled his face forward and kissed Chester softly on the lips.

“Breathe, Ches,” he said. “Breathe.”

Chester drew in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and then released it as he opened his eyes.

“We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” said Mike.

“Yes we do,” said Chester. “And I do want to.”

“Okay,” said Mike, brushing the tip of his nose against Chester’s. “Just tell me if you want me to stop or do anything differently.”

Chester nodded, and drew in a shuddering breath as Mike started to move his finger slowly out of him and back in again.

“You’re so beautiful, Ches,” Mike murmured, and Chester cringed, his face crumpling, one of his hands coming up to his eyes.

“Ches…?”

“I’m sorry,” said Chester. “I keep remembering.”

“We should stop—” Mike began, withdrawing his finger, but Chester interrupted him with an impassioned “No!” and grabbed Mike’s hand, forcing the finger back inside himself, deeper this time. He gasped at the sensation and pressed his forehead against Mike’s.

“No,” he breathed. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Mike moved his free hand to Chester’s dick and found that he was soft, and his heart broke a little bit.

Chester could go so far, do so much and be so free with his sexuality, but there was this indisputable barrier that he’d never been able to cross since he was violated as a child, and it hung over his life like a cold shadow. He wanted Mike to smash down that barrier, to lay waste to the association forged over years in his mind — that anal penetration was, without exception, a violation, something shameful and disgusting, something that made him dirty and worthless, something that had broken him.

He had never let anyone venture into this territory in his adult life, but the childhood memories had haunted him anyway, corrupting his happiest moments and turning his darkest moments even darker still. As he had swigged from the whisky bottle that night and fitted the belt onto the back of the door, he had remembered those violations, and felt a twisted sense of victory at the thought that he wouldn’t have to deal with those memories anymore.

And now Mike’s lube-slicked finger was sliding slowly in and out of him, Mike’s face a picture of care and concern for his friend, brother, lover, beloved — and Chester looked at his face, at the tenderness in his eyes, at the love and the fear and the hope, and for a moment, his mind accepted the reality of the situation and his body co-operated. It was Mike’s gentle finger inside of him, and his intentions were pure and as the slow seconds ticked by and Chester balanced, teetering on the knife-edge between the goodness of reality and the horror of memory, he felt a tingle inside himself, a note of warmth, and he saw some of the anxiety leave Mike’s face and his soft, full lips curving into a subtle smile as Chester’s dick began to swell in his hand.

“Mike…” Chester murmured. “I think… it feels good?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… ohhh... god... yeah...”

 

***


	13. Holy Shit

When Anna and Talinda arrived back at the house after their evening at the restaurant, the place was dark apart from a dim glow spilling from a distant window — the spare room on the furthest end of the ground floor. Anna looked at Talinda and Talinda looked at Anna and a silent agreement passed between them.

Abandoning their cardigans and handbags near the front step, they crept along the side of the house, footsteps silent in the soft summer grass. Night bugs chirruped in the plants and a warm breeze coiled around their bare legs and arms. The thin curtains of the spare room were drawn, but not securely. On one side was a tantalising gap where the curtain had been pulled too far inwards, as if yanked shut in haste.

The double-glazed glass of the closed windows sealed in a lot of the sound, but they could hear enough to know what was happening inside the room. It was Chester’s distinctive voice, rising in skin-tingling cries and moans.

Before Anna could claim prime position, Talinda moved forward, crouched below the window and inched her eye up until she was peeping into the bedroom. What had she expected to see? She hadn’t taken the time to visualise anything specific. She’d only contemplated the possibilities in an abstract sort of way, so when her eye fell upon the scene unfolding on the spare bed, it took her breath away.

Mike and Chester. Mike on top of Chester. Mike inside of Chester. One tattooed leg hooked around Mike’s back, the other leg with the bandaged foot thrown out to the side, Chester’s fists clenching the sheets, Chester’s head thrown back and to the side, happy tears streaming across his cheeks, his eyes closed in bliss, his mouth open, Mike’s face buried in his neck, Mike’s hips thrusting a smooth, steady rhythm into his body, a sheen of sweat glistening on Mike’s tanned back, one of his hands holding Chester’s hip, fingers pressing into his skin, pulling them together hard and close and deep.

“Holy shit,” Talinda breathed, and Anna popped up beside her like a curious groundhog, shuffling her out of the way so she could put her eager eye to the gap in the curtains and have a look.

“Holy shit,” she agreed, after a few slack-jawed moments of staring. She sank down onto the ground beneath the windowsill, sitting with her back against the wall, Talinda beside her. They looked at each other, wide-eyed, as Chester’s voice morphed from indistinct keening wails of pleasure into actual, recognisable words.

“Oh… god… yes… ohhh… Mike… Miiike… don’t stop… Miiiike…”

“Talk to me, Tali,” said Anna, quietly. She was worried about Talinda’s silence, worried that this event — though somewhat inevitable — was too much for her to handle after all.

“I remember something he told me once,” said Talinda, her voice soft but clear, “It was before we were married. Before we were even really together, officially. We were a little bit high. We were talking about everything and anything — you know how it is with Chester, once he gets going. We were talking about sex and sexuality and he was explaining how he was usually into women, but sometimes he was into men too, though he’d never been able to go all the way with them because of the flashbacks.”

“From his childhood,” said Anna.

“Yeah,” said Talinda. “And I distinctly remember thinking that he was bitter about it, that he was frustrated to be missing out on a whole category of experiences because of something in his past. We talked about his past, from time to time. He mostly kept it to himself, but it would come up occasionally, you know, usually on very bad days. He’d have dreams about it and wake up in a cold sweat, crying… and then he’d shower and scrub himself until he was raw.”

“Oh, Tali…”

Anna put her hand on Talinda’s arm to comfort her, but she didn’t need comforting. Her eyes were dry and her face was serene.

“I think he’s healing, Anna,” she said. “He’s opened himself up to another man. Maybe that means he’s overcoming one of the biggest, darkest demons in his life.”

“So… you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” said Talinda, smiling, bringing her hand up to Anna’s face, running her fingertips along her cheek, gathering a few stray strands of dark hair and tucking them behind her ear. “Let’s go inside,” she whispered.

 

***

 

Mike had felt as though he was being pulled in four directions at once when Chester had spread his legs and stared up at him with those eyes and said “I’m ready now”. Desire fought with fear, trust clashed with doubt, passion was tempered with heartache.

“Ches, I really don’t know if this is a good idea,” said Mike, absent-mindedly touching the tips of Chester’s toes that were sticking out of the clean bandages around his foot. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t want this?”

“Of course I do. It’s just that… I don’t know if it’s right. I don’t know if you’re making the best choice… for yourself.”

“You’re worried that I’m not right in my head and that I’m going to be more fucked up afterwards than I am already.”

“I didn’t say that, Ches.”

“I’m a grown-ass man, Mike.” He turned his hands palms up and shrugged. “I’m a consenting adult. I’m stone-cold sober. I want this. If you want it too, then stop second-guessing me. Stop making me feel like I’m more broken than I actually am.”

“You’re not broken…” said Mike cupping his hand on Chester’s face and stroking his cheek with his thumb. He put his lips against Chester’s and kissed him gently, feeling Chester’s hands manoeuvring his body into position on top of him, encouraging him with his careful fingers, his soft hands, his heart thumping out a rhythm Mike could feel against his own chest, _take me, take me, take me…_

It wasn’t as difficult as he’d thought it would be, entering Chester’s body, but he stayed focussed on the singer’s face, watching out for any signs of unhappiness, any evidence of resurgent memories, ready to end this immediately at the slightest hint of trauma. Chester simply murmured “yes, Mike… Mike… yes…” as though Mike’s name was a shield against the darkness. There were fleeting moments of pain that flashed across his features, but they were physical, and they dissolved quickly into deep breaths and soft moans, and eventually Mike was reassured enough by the enthusiastic and continuous consent that he could take his eyes away from Chester’s face and bury his own face against Chester’s neck and allow himself to be consumed by the heat and the tightness that sent pleasure through him in swift, relentless waves corresponding with the rhythm of the sounds Chester was making beneath him.

A solitary thought floated across Mike’s consciousness like a puff of cloud in a clear sky. _I’m having sex with a man right now. I’m having sex with Chester Bennington._ A simple fact loaded with a profound weight of meaning.

“You feel…” he began, but he couldn’t find any words, he was lost in Chester, and Chester’s hands were on him, pulling him in closer. Chester lifted his uninjured leg to clamp it around Mike’s lower back, opening himself up more, and there was the taste of Chester’s skin and the smell of cherry lube and Mike felt as though the universe was folding softly around him, disappearing in increments until there was only the bed with its white sheets, and Chester now grabbing at them as the pace increased, Mike bringing a hand under Chester’s thigh onto his hip, gripping him gently but firmly as he undulated against him, surging into him like a tide in timelapse, breaking upon the shore. With the future unknowable and the past receding into nothingness, the present glowed and sparked with energy and the blood rushed through their bodies and they felt intensely and deliriously alive.

 

***

 

Anna and Talinda were halfway across the lawn, hand in hand, en route to the front door, when Talinda stopped suddenly and turned to Anna, pulling her in and kissing her, her hands taking advantage of the open back of the pretty red dress to stroke her milky pale skin, and then Anna was pushing the straps of Talinda’s shimmery blue dress from her shoulders and they were sinking onto the soft grass, tangled in each other, shoes kicked away, hands stroking each others’ hair and tugging at the delicate fabric of their clothes.

One of Anna’s hands found its way onto Talinda’s taut belly and she splayed it against her warm skin, marvelling.

“I can’t believe you had twins… in here…” she breathed.

“What do you mean?” said Talinda, carefully pulling Anna’s dress over her head and casting it aside, planting tiny kisses along her shoulder. “You had twins too.”

“Yeah but… I’m soft and I have stretch marks…”

“So?” said Talinda. “You’re perfect.” She dragged her open mouth along Anna’s collarbone and down onto her breast, kissing and licking and taking the nipple between her lips.

Anna gasped, her hand gliding from Talinda’s stomach to the heat between her legs, fumbling the damp panties to one side and allowing two fingers to glide deep into her slippery wetness.

“Anna,” Talinda whimpered. “Jesus…”

Neither of them noticed that the light in the spare room had gone off or that the curtains had parted slightly in the middle or that Mike and Chester were standing in the darkness, peering out, watching them tumble about on the grass in the moonlight.

Mike had pulled the sweaty sheets from the bed and draped them over himself like a toga. Chester was naked. They had their arms around each others’ backs and they leaned against one another, basking in the afterglow of their own union as they watched their wives with rapturous attention.

“Holy shit,” said Mike, as Anna kissed her way down Talinda’s body and buried her face between Talinda’s long, smooth, brown legs, causing Talinda to writhe in ecstasy and arch her back off the ground.

“Holy shit,” Chester agreed.

 

***

 

By the time Anna and Talinda eventually found their way back into the house, sheepishly smoothing their crumpled dresses and brushing grass out of their hair, Mike and Chester had rearranged the spare room and climbed into separate showers.

Mike was soaping himself languidly, his mind flitting back and forth between his night with Chester and the image of their wives getting intimate on the lawn, and it didn’t take long before he was feeling rather aroused again. He tried to ignore it, and was doing a pretty good job, occupying both of his hands washing his hair, when the steamed-up shower door opened and Anna stepped inside.

He jumped slightly and turned to her and she looked from his face to his erection and back to his face, raising her eyebrows.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out a soapy hand and drawing her in for a tactful side-hug. “How was your night?”

“It was great,” she said. “And yours?”

“You saw us, right?” said Mike. “You saw me and Chester in the spare room.”

“How did you know?”

“I figured we might have inspired your little tumble on the lawn with Talinda. You were about five paces away from the window.”

“Oh…”

Mike started to laugh and one burst of laughter led to another, and then Anna was laughing too and it kept coming and neither of them could stop. They held onto each other for support, shaking with mirth until Mike had to lean back against the tiled shower wall to stop himself from falling over.

“Fucking hell…” he gasped. “This weekend… I swear to god…”

 

***

 

Talinda peeled the wet bandages carefully from Chester’s foot. He had tried to shower with one foot sticking out of the sliding door, but it hadn’t quite worked out, and he’d soaked his bandages anyway. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, picking grass out of Talinda’s hair as she dabbed his foot dry, applied ointment to the ugly, stitched gash along his sole and rebandaged him the way Mike had showed her.

“How does it feel?” she said.

“It hurts, but it’s not too bad,” said Chester. “It’s like a background noise. I’m getting used to it.”

He rubbed a silky lock of his wife’s hair between his fingers and smiled at her. He knew that she knew what he’d done with Mike, and she knew that he knew what she’d done with Anna, and neither of them needed to say anything more about it right now. The knowledge was settling comfortably between them, and they didn’t want to disturb it yet by poking and prodding and picking it apart.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he said.

“So are you, baby,” she replied, getting to her feet. “I need to shower. I’ll be quick.”

Chester made himself comfortable on the bed, picked up his phone from the bedside table and skimmed through his messages, of which there were many — and six that he cared about:

*

Dave: _You owe me a pair of swimming shorts, you barnacle. But seriously, I hope ur feeling ok. I hope you got good drugs & shinoda’s looking after you. Love you, Ches. Xx_

*

Brad: _Hey, clumsy motherfucker (+ potential fatherfucker…??…?… sorry). How’s the foot? <3_

*

Joe: _DID YOU KNOW? Male barnacles have penises that can be up to 50 times as long as their bodies??? They have proportionally the biggest dicks in the animal kingdom. Just thought you might like to know that._

*

Rob: _Hey Chester, Brad told me about the accident at the beach. Sorry to hear it, dude! What a bummer. Hope you heal up fast. Looking forward to seeing you soon. (Tomorrow maybe?)_

*

Ryan: _CHAZ, I just taught Tyler how to play sweet child o’ mine on the guitar and HE FUCKING NAILED IT BRO. You’ve got a little rockstar on your hands. Lila’s on drums and Lily was keen to have a go on the guitar too, but her fingers are so fucking tiny, bless her. Miss you bro. Your kids are rad. I’m keeping them._

*

Tyler: _dad I hope u are feeling better. I hope u are havin a nice time with uncle mike and aunty anna. Did u see otis? if u see him tell him I can play gitar now. Uncle ryan showd me. I think otis will do piano in our band 1 day. I will do gitar. :]:] lily and lila say hello. Miss u love u.. love from tyler ;]_

*

Chester read and reread his messages, and when Talinda emerged from the shower, wrapped in a towel, she found him smiling and sobbing, knuckling the tears away from his eyes.

“You alright Ches?”

He nodded and reached for her and she let the towel fall away from her body as he pulled into the bed beside him and wrapped his arms around her, her wet hair sticking to his face as his kissed her over and over.

And so an eventful Sunday ended and a new week dawned, brimming with possibilities.

 

*****


	14. Nightmares

“Mike, will you stop tossing and turning?” Anna grumbled.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why not? It’s three-thirty in the morning…”

“I’m thinking,” said Mike. “I can’t stop thinking.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that we have two more days before Chaz and Tali will be in their own house. And I’m thinking about the therapist coming over tomorrow. I’m thinking about all sorts of shit.”

“Only shit?”

“No, not only shit.”

There was silence for a moment or two, and Mike lay still for the first time in what felt, to Anna, like hours.

“What was it like?” she whispered.

More silence. He knew what she was asking, but wasn’t ready to admit that it was the first thing he’d thought of at the vague mention of ‘it’.

“Mike?” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “What was it like? With Chester?”

“Different,” said Mike. “Good. Confusing, at first.”

“Confusing?”

“It was his idea, but he kept getting triggered and I wanted to stop— for him, you know. I thought we needed to. But he insisted. He said he would be okay.”

“And was he okay? He sounded okay…”

Mike felt the warmth of a blush creeping into his cheeks. “Yeah…” he said, remembering Chester’s cries and the way he moved underneath him, the way his body surged and trembled as he came, the tears flowing freely down his cheeks, his face radiant with joy. “Unless he’s a really good actor. Which he isn’t.” Mike cleared his throat. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

Anna laughed. “After everything that’s happened… this conversation surprises you?”

“You’re not shocked? Bothered? Jealous?”

“Maybe a little bit jealous…” said Anna, poking him in the ribs and making him squirm. “But mostly curious. Was it… better?”

“It was different,” said Mike, a note of gentle finality in his tone before he swung the topic around. “What was it like with Talinda?”

“Mmm,” said Anna, snuggling against his back. “You want details?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I want details…”

Just then, there was a tentative knock on the door.

“Uhh… come in?” said Mike, and the door creaked open to reveal the silhouette of Talinda in her nightclothes, her hair loose and messy around her shoulders, her arms wrapped shyly around herself. She sniffled.

“Tali, is everything okay?” said Anna, sitting up and twisting the knob on her bedside lamp, bathing the bedroom in a subtle glow. It was immediately obvious that Talinda had been crying.

“He’s having nightmares,” she said softly. “I keep waking him up and calming him down but it just keeps happening over and over.”

“Oh god…” said Mike. “This is all my fault.”

“No, it’s not, Mike,” said Talinda. “Don’t say that. I just… I don’t know what to do. I don’t want him to see me crying.”

“Have you slept at all?” Anna asked, and Talinda shook her head.

Mike felt leaden with guilt and indecision. On the one hand, he wanted to go to Chester and make sure that he was okay, but on the other hand, he was full of horror at the thought that their intimacy might have been the trigger for these sudden nightmares, and that he might be the last person Chester needed right now. But Talinda was looking at him and he could see in her eyes that she was silently pleading for help, trusting that it was something he could provide. Anna placed her hand on his arm and said “Mike, can you sit with him? You’re not sleeping anyway. Let Tali get some rest.”

“Yeah,” Mike nodded. “Okay.”

He stood up and crossed the room, giving Talinda a soft hug on his way out.

 

***

 

“Is Tali okay?” said Chester as soon as Mike entered his room. He was sitting on the bed with the duvet wrapped around him, knees drawn up to his chest. “I heard her leave…”

“She’s fine, yeah,” said Mike, closing the door quietly behind him. There were no lights on in the room, but his eyes were accustomed to the dark, and enough moonlight was streaming through the windows for him to see perfectly well. Chester often left the curtains open at night when there was a moon or stars worth observing. It was one of those nights.

“She’s going to catch up on some sleep,” Mike continued. “You’ve been keeping her awake, apparently.” He smiled.

“Yeah,” said Chester, drawing a hand across his face. “What the fuck is wrong with me? And why are you not sleeping right now?”

“I haven’t been sleeping for hours,” said Mike. “Way too much on my mind. And I’m worried about you, Ches.”

“I’ll be fine. I just keep having this stupid nightmare, over and over.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really…”

“Has it got anything to do with us and—”

“No!” Chester said before Mike could even finish the question. “I knew you were going to make a connection there. You have to confront something before you defeat it. And I confronted it. And so maybe… because I was thinking about it… But it has nothing to do with you. Please don’t say stuff like—”

“Okay,” said Mike, sitting down on the bed. “I’m sorry.” He reached out and stroked Chester’s face with the back of his fingers. “You look tired, Ches. Get some sleep. I’ll be here to wake you up if the nightmares keep happening.”

He slid down onto his back, pulling the duvet away from Chester and patting the space beside him. Chester smiled and lay down, facing Mike, and Mike drew the duvet over them, tucking it behind Chester’s back and pulling him close, revelling in the comfortable warmth and weight of his friend’s body against his own, the slow, even breath warm against his shoulder.

“Mike,” Chester mumbled. “We didn’t get a chance to talk, after… you know. We got distracted by Anna and Tali…”

“What did you want to talk about?” asked Mike, curling and uncurling his fingers against the back of Chester’s neck.

“About how good it was. How much I appreciate you. That sort of thing.”

“Aww, Ches…”

Chester slid his arm across Mike’s stomach, his fingers brushing lightly over his skin.

“I’ve never felt like that before,” Chester said. “Like… completely at someone else’s mercy, but totally safe at the same time. And it was… it felt…” he trailed off.

“…So fucking good?” Mike suggested.

“Yeah,” said Chester. “So fucking good. You should definitely try it some time.”

“Sure, if you’re up for that,” said Mike, keeping his voice light and casual as he ran his fingers slowly up and down Chester’s back. He tried to imagine Chester inside of him, but his mind flipped it around, immediately overriding his imaginings with the vivid recent memories of himself inside of Chester. It had been white-hot and so intense it was almost painful, but in an addictive, irresistible way, so intimate that he had completely lost the ability to distinguish the boundaries of his own body. They had been fused together at a point of blinding pleasure, sharing a pulse, melting into one person.

Chester snuggled against Mike, resting his cheek against Mike’s chest, and after many long, silent, thoughtful minutes, his breathing slowed and Mike knew that he was asleep. There was something so comforting about having Chester cradled against his body like this, and Mike relaxed into the feeling of it, letting the warmth envelop him, allowing his breathing to fall into sync with Chester’s, closing his eyes…

He had just begun to drift off when Chester’s whole body twitched violently against him and he let out a muffled cry. “Nnn…nooo!”

Mike was instantly wide awake, urgently shaking Chester’s shoulder, and Chester was cringing inwards, his face crumpled in anguish as he fought against sleep and the demons lurking within it.

“Ches, Chester, it’s me, wake up, wake _up…_ ”

Chester’s eyes snapped open and he drew in a sharp, deep gasp of a breath, pushing himself up onto his arms and looking frantically around the room before his gaze settled on Mike and he collapsed against him with a choking sob, an awful shudder quaking through him like an aftershock. Mike enclosed Chester with his arms, hushing and holding him like a child, remembering how he had comforted Chester in the same way only a few nights ago, when he’d come so close to losing him forever.

“It’s okay,” Mike whispered, pressing his lips lightly against Chester’s head. He could feel Chester’s tears against his skin and began to fear that he might cry himself. “I’m here, Ches. Just relax, okay? I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Chester mumbled, his voice cracked and miserable. “Fuck.”

Mike felt a painful tug of sadness deep inside himself, but he held back his own tears and squeezed Chester tightly, rocking him gently against his body, nuzzling his hair, whispering soothing words.

“How can I help, Ches?” Mike said. “Do you think it might help to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” said Chester. “I wouldn’t know how to talk about it properly, anyway. It’s not like a movie playing my head with a narrative arc and defined characters. It’s like… bits and pieces. Flashes of memories and feelings and…” he sniffed and sobbed, burying his face against Mike’s body for a moment. “I keep seeing this stupid elephant with a bowtie.”

“What?” said Mike, bewildered.

“Not a real one. It was made out of denim. Full of sand or something. It was really heavy. It was a doorstop, yeah. That’s what it was. And it had a stupid little green bowtie that was crooked, and one eye. A black bead. I can see it in detail. There was a bit of thread where the other eye was meant to be.”

“In your nightmare?” Mike couldn’t fathom why Chester would be so terrified by a dream about an elephant doorstop.

“Yeah…” said Chester. “I remember it. I remember looking at it, the whole time, in detail. Every stitch of it. It was right there, in front of me, sort of mocking me. I just looked at it.”

Mike’s heart sank slowly and heavily in his chest. “Ches…”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t speak. My body was… My mind was… I just… The fucking elephant was always there. It was the only witness.”

Mike took in a deep breath and held it, willing the sick churning of his stomach and the racing of his mind to stop. He rested his cheek against the top of Chester’s head, moving it gently against the soft, shaved hair, wishing more than anything that he could get into Chester’s mind and wipe away each and every painful thought and memory, and calm him and make him feel as happy and at peace as he deserved to feel.

“I’m such a fucking basket case,” Chester mumbled, wiping his eyes.

“You’re not,” said Mike. “You’ve been through some shit, Ches. Be kind to yourself.”

Chester tilted his head up to look at Mike, and Mike touched the tip of his nose to Chester’s and they stared at each other in the pearly white light, saying nothing, doing nothing except breathing and thinking and feeling until Chester shifted himself up slightly and touched his lips against Mike’s and they kissed. It was tentative and cautious at first, as though they were teenagers kissing for the first time, but it gradually became comfortable and familiar, Chester resting his warm hand on Mike’s neck, Mike cupping own hand lightly at the back of Chester’s head.

The kiss broke tenderly, in much the way it had started, and Chester rested his head against Mike’s chest. He closed his eyes, and Mike marvelled at the beauty of his face, peaceful now, his eyelashes dark and delicate against his milky pale skin, which glowed in the moonlight.

“I’m so tired, Mike,” he murmured.

“Sleep, Ches. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

And as Chester finally drifted off into a blissfully dreamless sleep, Mike laced their fingers together and thought about the words he’d just said. He knew that he meant them, even if he didn’t know how to make them true just yet.

_I’ll always be here. Always._

*****


	15. Fuck Tomorrow

Dawn broke, and Mike awoke to find that Chester had managed to sprawl himself across most of the bed, relegating Mike to the very edge, where he was in serious danger of falling out and smacking his head on the bedside table. The main thing stopping this from happening was the fact that one of Chester’s arms and his uninjured leg were tangled with Mike’s, holding him in place.

Mike would happily have stayed in this uncomfortable and precarious position for longer, but he desperately needed the bathroom, so he disentangled himself from Chester with painstaking care, slipping out of the bed and drawing the curtains to keep the sunlight out of the room. He had barely slept a wink himself, but he wanted Chester to sleep as long as possible in this peaceful state he was in. Mike pulled the duvet up to cover Chester’s shoulders, tucked him in lightly and then stood by the bed watching him until his need to pee became overwhelming, and he sneaked from the room to relieve himself.

After that, it was time to check on the wives. He found them fast asleep together in the master bed, Anna on her side of the bed, Talinda in the middle, their arms draped loosely around each other. Fatigue rushed over Mike in a powerful wave and he yawned, easing himself onto the bed next to Talinda.

She rolled over to face him, blinking sleepily as she surfaced into full consciousness, and then smiling at him.

“Hey Mike,” she whispered. “Is Chester okay?”

“Yeah,” Mike replied. “He’s sleeping like a baby, taking up the whole bed somehow.”

Talinda looked relieved and well rested. Mike knew that he, on the other hand, probably looked like shit, and Talinda confirmed this by lifting her hand and stroking his face, saying “You look tired, Mike.” It was a tender gesture, sweet and familiar, an unusual one to pass between them, and Mike was glad of it. Perhaps the awkwardness between them wasn’t going to persist after all.

He allowed his eyes to close and soon drifted off into a deep sleep, and when he woke some hours later, he found himself alone in the bed, someone having tucked the covers around him the same way he had done for Chester. The numbers on his alarm clock informed him that it was almost noon.

 _Shit. I’ve wasted half the day_ , Mike thought, and heaved himself up, fighting against the fatigue that still clung to his body and mind.

He found Chester, Anna and Talinda sitting at the kitchen table, dirty dishes cluttered around them and the lingering smell of brunch in the air.

“We saved you some,” Anna said, indicating a covered plate on the sideboard.

Mike smiled, his stomach grumbling as he took the open seat beside Chester and started tucking into his food — a toasted bagel, scrambled eggs, rocket salad, fried garlic mushrooms and cherry tomatoes.

“You been up for long?” he asked them, his mouth stuffed with food.

“Couple of hours,” said Chester. “Sorry for keeping you awake…”

“It’s fine, Ches,” Mike replied, reaching over to squeeze his arm.

“So…” said Anna. “I’ve chatted to Rob. He’s bringing the kids back tomorrow, around midday. The therapist should be gone by then.” Her eyes darted to Chester’s face and then back to Mike’s. “Tali and I are going to visit casa Bennington this afternoon, in an hour or so, to get it all neat and tidy for their kids arriving. They’ll be in LA tomorrow afternoon.”

Mike swallowed heavily against a mouthful of food that suddenly felt like cement in his throat.

“Yeah, okay,” he choked out. None of this information was surprising, but to have the reality of the near future spelled out in such plain and practical terms felt akin to Anna pouring cold water over him. He stole a glance at Chester and saw the subtle pull of stress and fear on his face. Talinda looked much the same.

“These past few days have felt like forever,” she said. “But they’ve gone so fast. I’m going to miss this.”

“It’ll be great to see the kids, though” said Anna, hopefully, putting her hand on top of Talinda’s.

Talinda smiled softly. “Yeah,” she said. “I miss them.”

“Brad called,” said Anna, switching her focus back to Mike, who was no longer eating his food with anywhere near the same enthusiasm with which he had started. “He said he didn’t want to stress anyone out, but you all need to chat about the tour schedule and make some decisions. I think it might be something worth speaking about with the therapist tomorrow morning.” She looked at Chester, and Chester nodded.

“It’s a lot,” he said, meaning several things at once, and Mike was compelled to touch his arm again, and once his hand was on Chester’s arm, he was compelled to leave it there, and then to drop his fork onto his plate with a startling clang and pull Chester into an awkward hug that almost toppled him off the kitchen chair.

Anna and Talinda exchanged glances.

“It’s going to be okay,” said Anna. “Everything's going to be fine.” But she didn’t sound certain and Mike felt suddenly ill. He broke away from Chester and stumbled to his feet, rushing from the kitchen with his hand over his mouth.

“Mike?” Chester stood up to follow him, but Anna caught him by the arm and held him back.

“Leave him,” she said. “He just needs a minute.”

 

***

 

The delicious brunch, lovingly prepared by three of Mike’s favourite people in the world, had stayed in Mike’s stomach for a matter of minutes before it was thoroughly purged into the guest toilet, Mike cradling the porcelain bowl in his arms, gasping for breath. Stress-puking was Chester’s thing, more than his. It was only on very rare occasions that Mike experienced such visceral physical reactions to emotional triggers. This was one of those occasions.

He was shattered by the thought of Chester and Talinda packing their bags and driving away, the thought of a day without seeing their faces, a day without holding Chester in his arms, a day without seeing Anna and Talinda look at each other with those knowing, caring, loving expressions, a day without feeling the way he had been feeling about them all. A beautiful, strange and exciting flower had just begun to open its petals in the light of a new day, and now it was about to be ripped out of the ground, before any of them could even look at it properly and figure out what it was.

_I don’t want them to leave. I miss my kids. But I don’t want this to end. I’m scared of losing this, and I don’t even know what it is. I’m being ridiculous. They won’t be too far away. We’ll visit each other. But when will I get to sleep in the same bed as Chester again? Will we have sleepovers? How the fuck will that work? How many kids will be staying in his house? Oh god… oh shit… I can’t do this._

Mike had nothing left to throw up, but he heaved anyway, and tears leaked out of his tired eyes and he felt torn up and terrible — angry with himself, ashamed of his inability to keep it together like a normal adult, fearful for Chester, and just deeply, achingly sad for more reasons than he could articulate even to himself.

 

***

 

Once Anna and Talinda had left to sort out the Bennington house, Mike and Chester sat on the carpet in the living room playing a half-hearted game of scrabble on the coffee table. Chester won the game, despite the fact that his vocabulary and spelling were, in his own words, ‘below-average at best’. It was perhaps the first game of scrabble he had ever won, and he said this to Mike, who just shrugged.

“I didn’t let you win, if that’s what you’re implying,” he said.

“I wasn’t implying that,” said Chester. “I was just… Can you stop being so goddamn miserable for five minutes? This is our last afternoon—”

“That’s the problem,” said Mike. “I can’t handle it. I can’t accept that this is going to be over.”

“It’s not going to be over,” said Chester, a desperate edge to his voice. “It will be different, but it’s not over. We’ll work it out.”

Mike opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly felt as though he might cry if he did. He knew he should be reassuring Chester, comforting him, encouraging him, but his own heart felt like it was breaking in his chest. He was looking forward to seeing his kids, but every time he thought of them, he imagined Chester and Talinda in the scene with them, and then had to manually remove them from the picture. It was like this with every thought he had. His mind had inserted the Benningtons into every mental image of the future, even if it didn’t make sense for them to be there. He imagined an army of kids barrelling into his bedroom on Christmas morning, and in his imagination, he was in that bed with Anna and Talinda and Chester.

Especially Chester, warm and heavy against him. Soft, but not as soft as Anna or Talinda. Smooth, but not as smooth as them either. Gentle, but not that gentle. Beautiful, but in his own way. Imperfectly perfect.

He looked up and found Chester gazing at him, and his breath caught in his throat.

“I’m sorry, Ches, it’s just—”

“Shush,” said Chester. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow right now.” He started scrambling up the scrabble pieces on the board.

“You want to play another game of scrabble?” asked Mike.

“No,” said Chester. “I want to fuck.”

His face was calm and serious as his eyes met Mike’s. He didn’t respond to the wide-eyed look of surprise on Mike’s face. He simply stood up, dragged Mike to his feet and pushed him onto the couch.

“Ches?” said Mike, taken aback by this raw and sudden display of lust.

Chester hesitated. “You don’t want to?”

“No, I do, I just—”

“Okay, shut up then,” said Chester, pouncing on him and tugging his shirt over his head. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow. Fuck tomorrow.” He laughed. “Or rather… fuck today. Fuck right now.”

“But Ches—”

Chester pushed Mike roughly onto his back and crushed their lips together, still smiling as he forced his tongue into Mike’s mouth, one hand gripping his hair while the other hand worked on the buckle of his belt. Mike groaned as Chester’s eager hand found its way inside his boxers, gloomy thoughts banished from his head as Chester’s fingers closed around his dick.

Their encounter of the night before had involved a fragile and vulnerable Chester, and his sudden dominance came initially as a bit of a shock, but Mike cast his mind back to their first afternoon in bed together, and the way Chester had moved wildly against him and bitten him at the moment of climax, and he thought _Ah, yes, I have actually met this version of Chester before… It’s nice to see him again…_

Gone for the moment was the soft, doe-eyed boy with the delicate lashes and the tender lips. In his place, a strong, energised and aggressively attractive man, who had just ripped his own clothes off to reveal his powerfully muscled body and an erection that demanded to be taken seriously. Mike found himself almost unable to draw breath as he reached up and placed his hand flat against Chester’s six-pack. He felt as though he was shrinking against the couch while Chester loomed over him, seeming suddenly twice his usual size, his strong chest rising and falling as he stared down at Mike, breathing heavily, eyes smouldering with desire.

“Jesus…” Mike breathed. “You are so fucking hot…”

Chester didn’t respond to this with words. Instead, he pulled the rest of Mike’s clothes carelessly from his body and then climbed on top of him, kissing his face, biting his neck, their naked erections trapped painfully between their bodies.

“Ches,” Mike mumbled, as Chester’s fingers raked down his sides. “Ches, should we take this into a bedroom?”

“No,” said Chester.

He sat up, straddling Mike’s thighs and took both of their dicks in hand, stroking slowly but not gently, causing Mike to whimper and squirm underneath him.

“God, Chester…”

Mike was just beginning to dissolve into the surging pleasure of Chester’s hand and dick moving against his own when Chester seized him by the shoulders and hauled him up into a sitting position, kissing him deeply and then sinking back, pulling Mike on top of him. Mike tried to make himself comfortable on top of Chester, tried to stay wary of his still-bandaged foot, tried to bring their lips back together, but Chester was pushing his shoulders, urging him down, and so Mike went down, allowing himself to be guided by Chester’s hands, dragging his open mouth across Chester’s ripped stomach and then taking Chester into his mouth, feeling his heart flip at the sound this evoked.

Mike was inexperienced at blowjobs, but what he lacked in experience he made up for with enthusiasm, and he had soon reduced Chester to a sweating, writhing mess. Chester made no effort to restrain himself, his hands pressing the back of Mike’s head, fingers gripping his soft, dark hair, hips pushing up against him.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he said eventually, dragging Mike’s head up and away. There was an awkward tussle as Chester pushed Mike onto his back again.

“C— can I…” he stammered, and Mike was nodding in response, not exactly knowing or caring what Chester was asking permission to do. And then Chester’s was pushing his legs up and apart, burying his face between them, putting his tongue where Mike had once thought no tongue had ever had any business going. This long-held opinion was quickly dismissed. This tongue had every right to be where it was. And then there were fingers and Mike’s body jerked in surprise and Chester said “Sorry! Sorry!”, his voice a full octave higher than it usually was, which clashed amusingly with his otherwise confident and dominant demeanour. Mike was about to laugh, but then the fingers were in him again and he made an involuntary squeaking noise instead, locking eyes with Chester, who looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights as he took his hand away and awkwardly pressed his body forward.

“Are you— are you sure? Can I…?”

Mike found himself nodding feverishly, his heart hammering so hard that he was certain it was damaging itself against his ribcage, but he didn’t care. A bolt of blinding pain shot through him and Chester jumped, but Mike’s chaotically spinning mind instructed his arms to grab Chester’s waist and his ass and pull him in. Someone at that moment was screaming out loud and it took Mike several seconds to realise that it was him, and then another few seconds to work out that it was an entirely ambiguous scream, because what he was experiencing right then was shockingly painful but also so incredibly hot that his mind was scorched blank by the intensity of it. Everything had been obliterated and replaced with the searing burn of Chester fucking him, completely unexpectedly, in his own living room on a Monday afternoon.

“Oh my… fucking… god…” he choked.

Chester had one of Mike’s legs bent and pushed up against his abdomen, and his teeth latched onto Mike’s shoulder as he rocked his hips back and forth, panting heavily through his nose, one hand gripping the back of the couch to steady himself.

“Are you… okay?” Chester breathed, not relenting the pace or intensity of his movements for even a second.

“Yeah… I’m… ahhhh…. fuuuuuuck!”

Something had happened to Mike just then, deep inside himself, a feeling like a concentrated orgasm detonating in his body but without actually bringing him to climax. And then it happened again, and again, and he felt as though the bottom half of his body was crackling with electricity, jerking and spasming with unbearable bolts of pleasure. His hands fell away from Chester as his mind and his muscles ceased to function. The orgasm that rolled over him was like a mountain collapsing and he might or might not have been screaming again. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t care. He sensed Chester moving faster, heard him cry out, felt him come, and he found the strength to lift his arms and pull Chester against him, crushing himself under his weight, feeling the orgasmic tremors flow across Chester’s muscles.

Chester had his face squashed against Mike’s shoulder as he mumbled. “Sorry… sorry, was that…”

“Please stop talking,” said Mike.

“Sorry—”

“Shhh.”

He lowered his leg, feeling Chester slip out of him and he briefly thought, _Crap, we’ve probably ruined this couch_ , before realising that he could not possibly care any fucking less.

 

*****


	16. Honesty

“I want you to tell me a bit about why I’m here — what led to this appointment.”

Dr Rajiv Khatri was settled in the seat that had been pulled out from behind the desk in Anna’s study while Chester sat on the red chaise longue – the one on which he had witnessed Anna and his wife making out just a few nights before. The memory dangled in front of his mind like a shiny bauble and he wished he could allow himself to be distracted by it. He’d much rather lose himself in hot memories than spill his deepest darkest secrets to a therapist right now, but he had to do what he had to do, and he knew it. He needed to get better. He needed to work through this shit. He needed to make sure that it didn’t try to destroy his life again. Or Talinda’s life. Or Mike’s life. Or Anna’s. Or the kids’…

“Uh… I tried to kill myself,” he said. “Well, I didn’t, but I was going to. Mike showed up and stopped it from happening.”

“Let’s take it back a few hours,” said Dr Khatri. “What led to that moment, when you made the decision? What was happening that day?” His voice was lightly accented, smooth and calm.

Chester looked around the study, taking in the details. Pictures drawn by Mike’s kids, shelves full of books, a pot full of pretty pens on the desk beside a stack of notebooks and papers, one of Linkin Park’s AMA trophies acting as a paperweight.

“I was in Arizona with my family that day. Headed back to LA. We had some band stuff scheduled for the next morning. I was feeling really tired. Like… more tired than I’ve ever felt before. And sad.”

“Sad?”

“Maybe sad’s not the right word. It’s part of the feeling, but not the whole feeling. I’d been reading a lot of really nasty comments about myself and my band online. I know I shouldn’t do that, but it’s like an addiction, you know? And I was feeling crap about that. A friend of mine took his life a couple of months ago, and it was his birthday the next day. I was thinking about him on the flight over, missing him, having that shitty feeling, you know, when you think about suicide.”

“His suicide, or suicide in general?”

“In general. His suicide, my suicide. I’ve uhh… this wasn’t the first time…”

“You’ve attempted suicide before.”

“Yes. More than once.”

The therapist nodded. He didn’t look shocked, and there was no judgement on his face. He was a soft-looking man in late middle-age, his black hair balding and peppered with grey, his face broad and friendly, with a network of smile lines creasing his dark skin. His eyes were framed by a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles. He was everything Chester had ever wanted in a therapist, and at that moment, he could’ve hugged him.

“Could you tell me what you were thinking, when you got back to LA?”

“I felt like shit. Tired, stressed, miserable. I wasn’t looking forward to anything. Every time I tried to pull my mind towards positive things, it would just slip back, and by the time I got to Palos Verdes, I felt like my life… I felt like everything… I felt…”

Chester felt a lump in his throat then and his lip started to tremble.

“So you went home,” said Dr Khatri.

“No,” said Chester. “I went via the corner store. I bought some alcohol. Then I went home.”

He remembered how the first sip had felt. And the second. And the third. The way his mind had started cutting things loose. Family. Friends. Responsibility. None of them mattered. They would be better off without him. They would be relieved and he would be at peace. He remembered the moment he had taken the belt out of his drawer…

“Chester,” said Dr Khatri, and Chester snapped out of his reverie only to realise that his cheeks were wet with tears.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No need for that,” said Dr Khatri. “Tell me about the alcohol. Why did you buy it?”

“I think part of me had already decided what I wanted to do. Every time I’ve made that decision before, it involved drinking first. It sounds fucked up but drinking always gives me clarity, in a warped sort of way. Those other times I tried to kill myself, I had no doubts, no fears about what I was doing. I knew I wanted to stop existing and I was at peace with it. But I kept failing. And then of course afterwards I would be horrified by what had almost happened but… in those moments, just before I tried, I had been sure. Every time. And so I was craving that surety again. I wanted to get rid of any doubt. And I knew that alcohol would make the decision for me. So I bought it.”

“You’re an alcoholic,” said Dr Khatri. It wasn’t an accusation or a question. It was just a fact, put into the air for Chester to acknowledge.

“Yes,” he said. “I was six months sober. I had just finished a programme…”

Dr Khatri nodded solemnly, and pondered this for a while.

“And your foot…?”

Chester smiled. “That happened on the weekend when I went to the beach with the guys. Slipped on some barnacles — a stupid accident. It’s healing up nicely, though. Mike took care of me. He always does.”

“That night last week, when Mike arrived at your house,” said Dr Khatri, “what was your initial reaction to that?”

“I was annoyed, I think. I’m not sure. I was drunk. I know I was ashamed.”

“And he knew what was going on?”

“He figured it out quickly. Mike knows me well. Better than anyone else.”

“And he was able to convince you—”

“I’m just going to come right out and say it,” said Chester, talking over Dr Khatri, who fell immediately silent, listening intently, “because if I don’t, then we’re going to be dancing around the fact for hours and it’ll just be more awkward in the long run. I’m shit at keeping big secrets. So. Mike and I started a physical relationship that night. We got each other off. And it helped. There. I said it.”

Dr Khatri nodded. Again, his face was completely without judgement or concern. He smiled, and Chester released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“I suspected something like this,” said Dr Khatri. “It’s obvious even after observing you together for a few moments on my way in that your relationship is more than just a regular friendship. He clearly cares deeply for you, which is probably why he’s standing just outside the door right now with his ear pressed against the keyhole.”

Chester whipped his head around just in time to the see the shadows of Mike’s feet retreating from the narrow gap under the door, and heard the soft pad of his hasty footsteps as he hurried away, his face no doubt flushed with embarrassment at breaking the rules. If he’d had a tail, it would be between his legs. Chester smiled.

“Was he there the whole time?”

“No,” said Dr Khatri. “Just for the last bit. Do you love him?”

“Yeah. I love him,” said Chester. “He saved my life.”

 

***

 

“You were in the bathroom a long time,” said Anna, as Mike stepped into the living room where she and Talinda were sitting on the couch, drinking tea. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah…” said Mike. “All good. I mean, as good as can be expected, I guess. Which isn’t very good at all, actually. Sorry. Yeah. No. Not good.”

He slumped onto the couch between the two women and put his face into his hands. One of Anna’s arms and one of Talinda’s curled around his back and they put their heads on his shoulders and sat in silence that was broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall, the distant drone of an aeroplane and the sound of their own breathing. Mike watched the steam curl up from their cups of tea and felt the minutes drag on, time limping forward, his mind unable to distance itself from the study and from the sound of Chester’s voice. He shouldn’t have eavesdropped. It was a breach of trust. But he couldn’t help himself. He was so worried about Chester and how he must feel, dredging up last week’s darkness and picking it apart with a stranger. Chester had looked so nervous walking into the study with the therapist. There had been no trace of the strong, confident Chester who had pushed Mike into this very couch and fucked him senseless the day before. Instead, he was back to his fragile, vulnerable state, and it broke Mike’s heart into a million tiny pieces.

Chester had always been a study in contradictions and inconsistencies, but the extremes now seemed so much further apart than they had been before. Mike wished more than anything that he could dismantle Chester’s depression, his addiction, his instability, to help him reach a safe and stable point in his life where he could exist without fear, without the powerful pull of the darkness. Mike had felt as though yesterday had been a sort of progress, allowing Chester to explore a mostly untapped side of himself, to acknowledge his ability to take control, to be trusted, to make positive, confident choices and own them, to be active in the pursuit of his own happiness. There was room for more exploration there. It would be good for Chester. It would be good for Mike. But they were out of time.

“I’m a wreck,” Mike mumbled, closing his eyes.

“But you’re not a lonely wreck,” said Talinda. “We’re all wrecked together.”

Mike felt Anna’s hand drawing his own hands away from his face and he opened his eyes as she pressed her lips to his, and stroked his cheek. He sighed into the kiss, closing his eyes again, not noticing when Anna reached out to draw Talinda closer. Anna moved the kiss to the corner of Mike’s mouth and then Mike felt a second pair of lips brushing his own and he moved his arms to embrace the two women, drawing them closer to him and to each other as one tongue and then another and then a third one ventured out to make tentative contact. It was sweet, gentle bliss and Mike felt as though his heart was swelling with contentedness… before it suddenly deflated again.

“I don’t want this to end,” he mumbled, pulling back slightly, his eyes darting from Anna’s to Talinda’s and back. _All this freedom, this openness, this experimentation, this casual affection, this emotional honesty… Although… am I really being completely honest?_ He loved Anna, and he always would. She was the most loving, caring, supportive wife he could ever have hoped for. She was the mother of his children and his best friend. He also cared deeply for Talinda — pure, sweet, long-suffering Talinda, who had put so much work and so much love into the rebuilding of Chester’s life after the cataclysm of his first marriage and the subsequent derailment of his mental health. He adored and respected these women, but it was Chester who was at the centre of everything, and he couldn’t deny it anymore. Did Anna and Talinda know this? Would they understand if he tried to explain it to them? Would it make any difference if they did?

Talinda rested her head on Mike’s shoulder again while Mike studied Anna’s face, trying to read her expression, wondering if she could sense the truth of his feelings. Something caught her eye and she looked down and started rubbing her hand on the couch, just beside Mike’s leg. Mike glanced down and realised she was trying to rub away the cum stain that he had tried and failed to wash out following his afternoon tryst with Chester the day before. Anna didn’t seem to realise what it was, probably assuming it was from a smoothie spill she hadn’t noticed before. She didn’t need to know the truth. Not right now. She didn’t need to know that he had had sex with Chester again while she and Talinda were out of the house, doing practical, responsible things. She didn’t need to know that he had been submissive. She didn’t need to know how much he had liked it.

What Mike didn’t know was that, as soon as Anna and Talinda had stepped inside the Bennington house that day, their plans for vacuuming and polishing and dusting surfaces had been temporarily forgotten, and they’d fallen immediately into a desperate kiss, tumbling into the living room, slipping out of clothes, unclasping bras, shimmying out of panties and collapsing, tangled and wet, onto the couch…

So much for honesty.

 

***

 

When Chester and Dr Khatri emerged into the living room, Mike, Anna and Talinda could tell immediately from the knowing look the therapist was giving them that Chester had told him everything, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in any way. Perhaps he was as good and as chilled out as Brad had said he was when he’d made the recommendation.

“Talinda, Mike,” said Dr Khatri. “If I could have a private word?”

They nodded and followed him out of the room, leaving Chester alone with Anna.

“How was it?” said Anna, as Chester took a seat beside her on the couch, placing himself strategically on top of the stain in case she hadn’t already noticed it, which, of course, she had.

“A good start,” said Chester. “I’ll be seeing him again next week. He said he’d be happy to do home visits at my house, if I’d prefer that to going to his practice.”

“And would you prefer that?”

“I don’t know. I prefer your study,” he laughed. “It’s nice in there. And it’s nice knowing that you’re all in the house waiting, and I can see you as soon as I get out.”

Anna pulled Chester into a hug and he hugged her back. Today Talinda smelled like cinnamon and cloves, while Anna smelled like fresh fruit. He imaged them together for a moment… a perfect combination; a spicy, fruity dessert. Delicious.

“Ches,” said Anna, drawing away from him. “I want to speak to you about something.”

“Yeah?”

Chester looked nervous, and Anna tried to reassure him by taking his hands in hers and squeezing them lightly.

“It’s just… I want to know what’s really happening between you and Mike,” she said. “I want to fully understand. And whatever the case may be, I don’t mind. I just need to know where I stand. Where we stand.”

Chester nodded, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth. His cheeks warmed slightly and he looked down at his hands, softly encased by Anna’s.

“It’s not like a had a certain amount of love in me before and now I’m just sharing it between more people,” said Chester, his words careful and considered. “What it feels like is that I now have so much more of everything, and so much more to offer because of the fact that there are more people. And Mike… Mike is a big part of that.”

Anna was looking at him earnestly, smiling, encouraging him to continue.

“What I have with Mike…” Chester began. “It’s something I’ve never had before. It’s different, it’s new, but that’s not what makes it so important right now. I don’t know what it is. I just… I don’t want to lose anything I already have, but I also want to be with Mike all the time. He makes me feel excited about life in a way I’ve never felt before. And it’s not in spite of him being a man, you know. It’s not a compromise. I think maybe… I think it might actually be partly because he’s a man. Do you know what I mean?”

Anna nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I know what you mean.” She gave a small, almost sad laugh. “I think I feel the same way about your wife.”

Just then, there was a knock at the door and they both jumped. Before Anna got up to answer it, she cupped Chester’s face in both of her hands and said “Don’t worry, Chester. We’ll work it all out. We have time. We have the whole future ahead of us. Everything will be fine.”

Her face was bright and happy as she opened the door. At the threshold stood Rob, Brad, and the three Shinoda children. Tears welled up in Anna’s eyes. She dropped down onto her knees, and Otis, Abba and Jojo stampeded into her arms.

*****


	17. Conversations

Mike lay, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Three days. It had been three days since his kids has come home, since Chester and Talinda had left to be with their own kids, since everything had gone back to the way it was before… except it hadn’t. Not at all. He knew it, Anna knew it, and he was pretty certain the Benningtons knew it too. Nothing would ever truly be the same again.

In some ways, things were better. For example, they’d been in constant contact with the Benningtons via text, phone and video since they’d left, and the massive increase in the closeness of their friendships was appreciated and enjoyed by all. Additionally, he and Anna had just had some of the best sex of their lives – she was lying next to him right at that moment, catching her breath. But it wasn’t enough. Sure, the sex had been amazing – they’d gone down on each other and then fucked for the better part of an hour, with Anna managing about six orgasms and Mike achieving a respectable two and a half – but they both knew that there could be even more; they’d experienced it in their own bed, and they were greedy to have it again.

In the post-sex kissing and cuddling, there seemed to be far too few arms and legs, not nearly enough warm chests and soft hands and a severe shortage of lips and tongues. And even in terms of one-on-one experiences, they both found themselves craving variety. As much as they loved each others’ bodies, Anna couldn’t help desiring the sensation of another woman’s full breasts cupped in her hands, and Mike couldn’t stop thinking about the thrill of feeling another man’s dick twitch against his thigh.

“Mike,” said Anna, and he snapped out of his reverie, turning his head towards her and seeing the look in her eyes that told him, without the shadow of a doubt, that she was feeling everything he was feeling. “Mike, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just don’t know.”

They lay in silence. Mike inched his hand out across the bed and found Anna’s hand, entwined their fingers and squeezed slightly, and she wriggled herself closer to him until he could feel her gentle breathing against his shoulder.

“Anna,” he said. “Do you think everyone is a bit gay?”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah. Like… like maybe it’s just a matter of finding the right person before you realise it, but…”

“I reckon some people are on the outer extremes of the spectrum, so there must be some fully straight people,” she said, “but yeah, definitely most people are a bit gay and a lot of people are in denial.”

“I used to think I was totally straight,” said Mike.

“So did I,” Anna replied, and then snorted with laughter. “What a joke.”

“Do you reckon Talinda’s straighter than you?”

“Let’s not get too caught up in the details,” said Anna. “She’s gay enough. You don’t finger your best friend that enthusiastically if you’re all the way up at the straight end of the scale.”

“She was good then, was she?”

“Very,” said Anna.

“Better than me?”

“I’m afraid so. But it’s not your fault. She has thinner, softer fingers. Never played a guitar in her life. You just can’t compete with that. In the same way I can’t compete with Chester.”

“That’s not the same. I told you before – it’s too different to compare.”

“But it’s more intense, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s also more stressful. You can’t just casually fuck someone in the ass without consequences. It hurts. It’s hard to walk afterwards.”

“You rendered him incapable of walking?”

“No… uhhh… he rendered me incapable of walking.”

“Wait, what?” said Anna, pushing herself up onto her elbow and scrutinising her husband’s face, trying to process his words.

Mike blinked up at her, trying to decide what to say. Even though Anna had told him all about her passionate afternoon with Talinda at the Bennington house, he hadn’t told her about his afternoon on the couch with Chester, not because he’d actively decided to keep it from her, but simply because he hadn’t found what he felt was an appropriate moment to bring it up. Honesty hadn’t seemed necessary that day, or in the days that followed. It hadn’t been blatant dishonesty — simply an omission of fact.

“We uhhh… we tried it both ways,” he said. He was worried about her reaction to him keeping this information from her for so long, but she quickly allayed his fears, her face lighting up.

“Oh my god,” she said excitedly. “I can’t believe it.”

“Why not?”

“Because we saw you; Talinda and I saw you having sex with Chester, you know that. And it just looked right, with you on top. I mean… Ches just seems like a natural bottom, doesn’t he?”

“How would you know?”

Anna shrugged. “He’s such a cute little thing. I just can’t imagine him… I don’t know. Also, it takes a certain type of bravery to bottom. I didn’t know you had that in you. I don’t mean that in a bad way–”

“Damn,” Mike laughed. “I feel like I should be offended. But you’re wrong about him. He’s not such a little thing. He’s fucking built. And he’s not passive. You should’ve seen him…” Mike trailed off, his mind full of images of Chester’s beautifully muscled body in all of its gym-ripped glory.

“Tell me more,” said Anna. “I’m curious about this. There’s a dynamic there that isn’t a factor with me and Talinda. Dominance is not as big of a deal when there aren’t any dicks involved.”

“He was vulnerable the first time,” said Mike. “He specifically wanted it that way because… because he said he had demons to override.”

“I get that,” said Anna.

“But I told him right from the beginning that I was open to switching it around, and… well, we did.”

“He initiated it?”

“Yes.”

“He dominated you?” Anna had a sly smile on her face, her eyes twinkling with dark fascination.

“Oh yes,” said Mike, finding himself unexpectedly enjoying this exchange, caught up in the thrill of reliving it so openly with Anna, who was clearly excited by the very idea of it. “I felt so small,” he continued. “Not in a bad way, I mean. He just seemed so… powerful. I was lying there, looking up at him and I couldn’t breathe. I’ve always thought he was beautiful rather than handsome, and even after we had sex the first time, part of my brain was accounting for my attraction to him because I wasn’t seeing him as all that masculine, you know? But then, when we switched it around… he was completely masculine. Like, one hundred per cent. It was so ridiculously hot and I couldn’t believe how it was making me feel. I was actually quite bewildered by it.”

“By being turned on by masculinity?”

“Yeah. Like obviously he’s always been a man, but this was like… high-octane masculine. Like way more masculine than I’ve ever been. I felt like a tiny little snowflake melting in his hotness.”

Anna raised her eyebrows. “You liked it?”

“Yeah,” said Mike. “Yeah, I liked it.”

“Tell me more.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Mike laughed again, taking in the greedy look on his wife’s face. “What do you want to know?”

“How did you do it?”

“Uh, same as the first time. But reversed, obviously.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yeah, a lot. At first. But then it stopped hurting. The male g-spot is a real thing.”

“Oooh, and what was that like?”

“You’re insatiable.”

“I know. Is it weird that this is turning me on?”

Mike grinned at her. “Probably. But um— to answer your question— it was like an orgasm, but inside and without the release. It’s pure pleasure, but it just builds and builds. No relief. It’s almost too much. I thought I was going to pass out.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Did you use a condom?”

“No. It was too spontaneous for that. No lube either.”

“Holy shit. How…?”

Mike felt himself blush. “I went down on him and then he uh… went down on me, in a manner of speaking...”

“…” Anna was momentarily speechless and her eyes had never looked so huge.

“You still into this?” he asked her.

“I am so into this,” she breathed, sliding herself on top of him. “Tell me… tell me more…”

 

***

 

“Dad,” said Tyler. “Was it nice staying with Uncle Mike and Aunt Anna?”

“Yeah, Ty, it was great,” said Chester. “Mike and Anna and your mom all looked after me very well.”

“So you’re better now?”

“Yes, mostly. I have a special doctor coming to visit me once a week, just to check on me. He said we need to put the tour on hold for a few weeks, so he can be completely sure that I’m doing alright first. So that means I’ll be home for a while.”

“Okay, that’s good, but… Otis and I need time to get started with our band, so… Will you take me to visit him sometime?”

“Of course, yeah,” said Chester. “And we’ll be going back on tour soon enough. I’m sure your mom and Aunt Anna will be spending lots of time together when we’re away, so you and Otis will have plenty of opportunities to practice. You’ll probably be better than us by the time we get back.”

Tyler grinned at this idea.

Chester had been thoroughly enjoying his time with his children, but his time alone with Talinda was proving a little bit more complicated. Unlike Mike and Anna, who were attempting to deal with the strange sense of loss by fucking each other senseless every time the kids were asleep, he and Talinda had been taking a more reserved route, cuddling and talking into the early hours of the morning.

“Talk to me, baby…” she said to him that night once they had turned down the lights and tucked themselves into bed — the very same bed that Chester and Mike had tumbled around in on the afternoon following the night that started it all. Talinda had rebandaged Chester’s foot just before bed and while she had been speaking to him then, he had seemed withdrawn and troubled, and she was immediately beset with concern for his wellbeing.

“What’s getting you down?” she said, lightly stroking his hair and snuggling up beside him.

“It’s not you, my love,” he said. “You know it’s not you… You know what it is…”

And Talinda did know. She knew it on a deep, almost painful level. Almost by accident, they had discovered a whole new life that could’ve been theirs — a thrilling, exciting life full to the brim with love and joy, with new experiences and deep connections — and just as quickly as they had discovered it, it had been taken away from them by the rules and obligations of reality. What would people think? What would they say? What would they do? How would it work? It was too complicated, too messy, too taboo.

And yet…

“There’s that part of yourself that you share with your spouse,” said Chester, carefully. “And it’s the biggest part — the most important part, obviously. But there’s also that other part that you almost forget exists, because you don’t share it with anyone. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” said Talinda, sliding her arms around his body and resting her cheek against his shoulder. “I know what you mean.”

“Well,” said Chester, “I felt like, with Mike, I was sharing that part. He was helping me to bring it out and deal with the aspects of it that were hurting me. The part that I never wanted to burden you with. So between you and Mike, and even Anna, I was sharing my whole self, and it felt… good. It felt right. And it seemed to me like you were having the same experience.”

“I was,” said Talinda, unable to keep the wistfulness out of her voice.

Chester rolled over and looked her in the eyes, stroking a strand of silky dark hair away from her face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “And if there were only two people left on the earth and I was one of them, I’d want you to be the other one.”

“Same here, Ches,” she said, smiling at him. “If we have to be monogamous, I’d obviously choose to be monogamous with you.”

“Do you want to be monogamous?” he asked.

“No, not really,” she said, surprising herself with her own bluntness. “I want the world to be more chilled out about these things. I want to be more chilled out myself. I feel as though I have all this baggage from my childhood and my career and society in general, and it’s holding me back. I want to throw it all off and just _be_ , you know? I felt like I was starting to learn how to do that, and that it was good for both of us, but then… the kids…”

“What do you think would happen if we decided to go back? To try and make something work with the Shinodas? When I spoke to Anna, she seemed to think that there was hope…”

“I honestly don’t know what would happen,” said Talinda. “Or how to even start that conversation…”

They slipped into a comfortable, contemplative silence, thinking the same thought, asking themselves the same question.

You can’t just take two healthy marriages, each involving kids, and simply smash them together and expect it to work… can you?

*****


	18. The Missing Link

Anna: _Hey B. I’m going out to do some errands. Would love to meet you for coffee if you’re free. xxA_

Brad: _Sure. Midday? Usual place?_

Anna: _Perfect. Thanks. :)_

* 

Brad was there before she was, sipping a cappuccino, with another one ready and waiting for her. She slipped into the open seat and smiled, pushing per shopping bags underneath the table and wrapping her hands gratefully around the steaming drink.

“Thanks, B,” she said.

“No problem,” he replied. “So, what’s up?”

He was already leaning forward slightly, his eyes bright and eager. Anna couldn’t help but laugh. He knew she was here to use him as a sounding board, not just to have an idle catch-up, and he was ready for it. As always, his position as adviser and confidant to Mrs Shinoda was something he delighted in. He loved having access to insider information. He loved being trusted. He loved to have his opinions valued.

“Before I say anything else, I need to know that you’re not going to laugh at me, because I don’t know if I could handle that right now,” said Anna, sipping her coffee.

“Okay,” said Brad. “I won’t laugh. I promise. Is that going to be a difficult promise to keep?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’ll do my best. Tell me what’s up.”

Anna took a deep breath and then began. “So you know that we had a uh… situation with Chester and Talinda.”

“By ‘situation’, you mean ‘orgy’.”

“Yes, but… it was more than just an orgy.”

“What else was it?” asked Brad. He wasn’t laughing. His eyes were caring and curious and his head was tilted slightly to one side as he watched Anna’s face, trying to read her.

“I don’t know, Brad, but we were rallied around Chester, supporting him, and we were supporting each other, and it felt like we just… connected. It felt so comfortable. I don’t know if it was because of the emotional nature of the situation, but we bonded so, so strongly, and when they left, I felt broken, and so did Mike, and we know that Chester and Tali are struggling with it too.”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

“I want them back.”

“In your house?”

“Yeah,” said Anna. “I want them back in my life. In my immediate life; my home life. Especially Talinda, but Chester too. I want them close, regardless of what baggage comes with them. The kids, the chaos, the mental health problems, all of it. I want them back.”

“Wow,” said Brad. “That’s um… huge. You’re talking about some sort of crazy weird modern poly family?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” said Anna, putting her head in her hands. “All these labels. Why does it have to be considered crazy and weird when it feels so normal? I want it to be normal. I want to see them all crumpled and sleepy in the kitchen every morning. I want to laze around on the couch watching shitty TV with them. I want to do twice as much laundry and hang Chester’s superman underpants on the washing line. I want it all – the good, the bad, the boring – not just the uh… orgies.”

“So why not give it a try then?” said Brad. “Don’t sell any houses or anything like that; just pick one of the houses, get everyone to pile into it and see if this idea lives up to your expectations. If not, no harm done. You can casually shift back to the way you’ve always been.”

“Do you honestly think that’s a good idea? I’ve been daydreaming roughly the same thing, but I’m worried that it’s actually insane and I’m just in denial.” Anna traced her finger along the edge of her coffee cup, her face etched with a mixture of anguish and hope.

“If you all go into it with the same relaxed and positive attitude, I don’t see why it would be such a bad idea,” Brad shrugged. “Start off with a bullshit excuse, for the kids and for anyone else who asks, if that would make things easier. Like, the Benningtons are getting their home remodelled, so they need to stay with you for a while. Or something like that. And then, if it’s all working out and everyone’s having a wonderful time, you can just say, well, seeing as everyone’s so happy, we’ve decided to stay like this forever! Yay!”

“You know… that actually sounds pretty straightforward.”

“Nothing about it will be straightforward,” said Brad. “But it might be worth it to try anyway. You’ll never know if you don’t try. And it’s obviously a big deal to you, or else you wouldn’t have summoned your trusted adviser for this important clandestine meeting in a coffee shop.”

Anna grinned. “You’re right,” she said. “So… if I were to attempt to make this happen, how do you think I should go about pitching the idea? Do I call a Shinoda–Bennington family meeting and give a PowerPoint presentation with pros and cons, or do I just drop it casually into a conversation and see how they react, or what?”

But Brad wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes were focussed on something on the far side of the coffee shop and a wrinkle had appeared in the centre of his forehead for a moment before it smoothed away and he smirked slightly.

“Uh, Anna,” he said. “It appears you’re not the only one meeting with your most trusted adviser today.”

Anna whipped around, her eyes scanning the room until a bustle of people moved along, revealing none other than Chester and Dave seated in a booth, clearly engaged in a deep and serious discussion.

“You think–” she began.

“They must be having a similar discussion,” said Brad, nodding wisely as though there was no doubt about it in his mind. “I can’t believe I only spotted them now. I would’ve seen them come in, so they must’ve been here longer than I have. I’m calling Dave.”

“What, why?” said Anna, turning to look back at Brad, who already had his phone to his ear.

“Because it makes more sense for this conversation to be between you and Chester,” he said. “Hey Dave, what’s up? Turn around.”

*

As Brad and Dave paid for the coffees and exited the coffee shop, Anna slid into the booth alongside Chester, observing the blush creeping across his cheeks and the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“So…” he said, twiddling his fingers in front of him, the blush deepening.

“So,” she replied, placing one of her hands on top of his, stilling their nervous movement. “I miss you. Mike misses you. We miss you both.”

“We miss you too,” said Chester. “A lot.”

“Does it… ache?”

“It aches so bad.”

“Ches,” said Anna. “I know what you have with Mike. I have it with Talinda. They’re undeniable bonds. But if we’re going to take this further, we need to know that the other bonds are strong too. They don’t have to be the same, of course, but they have to be healthy. They have to fit and complement the rest of it. Do you know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean,” he said. “I’ve had this discussion with Tali. She’s not worried. I mean… She’s already had sex with Mike, and yeah, there was a bit of awkwardness afterwards, but it’s fine now, so…”

“So it’s really just us two. We’re the missing link.”

“You want to have sex with me?” he laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t not want to have sex with you. Anyway, that’s not the point,” she said. “What I want is to know that we could share each other, not just our partners. You’re one of my best friends in the whole world, and I don’t want to jeopardise that in any way, but I also want to know that we can evolve it into something more, or else this isn’t going to work.”

Chester looked up, scanning the coffee shop over Anna’s shoulder. The booth they were in was secluded and angled in such a way that few people could see them; those who could were turned away, distracted, uninterested, going about their own lives. Nobody had recognised him. There were no camera phones pointing in their direction. He looked back at Anna and lifted his hand to stroke her cheek before moving his head slowly forward, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted to — but she didn’t pull away, and their lips met gently.

They’d kissed before, on that night in the bed when it had been all four of them lost in the madness of lust and discovery, but they had never kissed like this. It was careful but curious — and when it broke, they rested their foreheads together gently and looked each other in the eyes. Anna smiled.

“I love you, Ches,” she said. “So, so much. I love you and your wife and my husband… and we both know there’s something special here. It’s crazy and ridiculous, but it’s there, and I don’t think it’s worth disregarding for the sake of normality when there’s so much potential in it. I want to be there for you. I want to be part of your life.”

Chester felt the heat of emotion rising in his face and neck, flushing his skin again and making his eyes water. He wanted to speak, to agree with Anna, to tell her everything she wanted to hear, but his voice seemed to have been snatched away from him, so, instead, he kissed her again, stroking his hands through her hair and smiling against her lips as she put her arms around him. 

*

Dave was lurking discreetly behind a giant potted palm tree outside the coffee shop, peering through the window at intervals.

“They’re kissing, Brad,” he said. “My brain is spinning right now. This seems so wrong.”

“Context,” said Brad. “Try to keep it in mind.”

“But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m watching my friend have an affair with my other friend’s wife.”

“That’s just your regressive heteronormativity talking,” said Brad. He was leaning up against the massive pot, casually inspecting his fingernails. “Chester explained it, didn’t he? You need to keep in mind that this is nothing compared to what’s already happened.”

“He didn’t tell me exactly what happened, he just sort of… hinted at it.”

“They had a orgy. Mike fucked Talinda. From what I understand, they’ve been doing a lot of homosexual experimentation too. It’s all over the place.”

“Wow,” said Dave. “Okay. Why do you sound so chilled out about it?”

“Because I am chilled out about it. If they’re happy, I’m happy. And if I’m really nice and supportive, maybe they’ll let me join in one day.” Brad held a deadpan expression for three seconds before bursting into laughter at the look of horror on Dave’s face. “I’m joking, Phoe.”

“Delson, you’re a shit,” said Dave, his eyebrow cocked in judgement.

Brad shrugged. “Whatever,” he smiled. “I’m a progressive shit. Let’s get out of here and leave them to it — whatever ‘it’ is. I’m sure Anna will fill me in on any important developments.”

*

Anna: _Chester’s decided. Tali was the one who sent him out to talk to Dave. :))) If all goes to plan, they’ll start moving in this wknd. We’re using your idea of the renovation excuse, if anyone asks. Thanks for the talk, B. Really helped light a fire under this thing. I appreciate it. Xx_

Brad: _Exciting times! When are you telling the kids?_

Anna: _As soon as it’s all worked out & confirmed. Otis will be thrilled. Tyler’s the brother he never had. Apparently they’re starting a band._

Brad: _Oh god, I hope Jonah never gets wind of this. He’s already showing interest in the drums. My worst nightmare._

Anna: _You’re so mean. Love you, B._

Brad: _xx <3_

*****


	19. Synchronised

The arrival was a frantic bustle of luggage and kids and chaotic greetings. Within moments of the Benningtons entering the Shinoda residence, there was a tornado of twins whirling between them and down the corridor en route to the playroom, emitting energised shrieks of excitement at this unprecedented family sleepover.

Mike watched the four little girls running together and he was taken aback by the fact that, for a moment, he couldn’t even identify which ones were his. In a fluffy of dark ponytails, they were gone, and he stood blinking, watching as Tyler and Otis followed in their wake, already engaged in deep discussion.

“We need to find a singer…” Tyler was saying, before they went out of earshot.

Mike, Anna, Chester and Talinda stood in the entrance hall catching their breath, surrounded by boxes and bags.

“This is it,” said Talinda, her lips curling into a smile. “We’re here.”

“You’re here,” said Anna, her eyes sparkling as she stepped forward and enclosed Talinda in a hug.

Mike caught and held Chester’s gaze for a moment and then stepped forward, smiling and gathering Chester into his arms, a shiver of relief running through him as he pressed the solid, vital heat of Chester’s body against his own.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, and felt Chester’s fingertips pressing gently into his back, touching their way down and sneaking ever so slightly under the hem of his shirt to tickle the skin beneath it.

“I missed you too,” Chester whispered.

Anna and Talinda were slowly breaking apart and Mike reached a hand out to them. “Come here,” he said, beckoning them over to join his hug with Chester.

Anna laughed. “Really? Group hug?”

“Yes, really!” said Mike. “I want to hug all of you!”

They moved together into something resembling a band huddle except much closer and much warmer, all their heads bowed inwards and resting against one another.

“We’re so, so glad you’re here,” said Anna.

“It feels like coming home,” said Talinda.

Mike threaded his fingers lightly through her hair and said, “You are home.”

*

The afternoon was loud and messy as bags were unpacked and the Benningtons settled in. Chester and Talinda were back in the spare room, Tyler had taken the spare bed in Otis’s room, and Lily and Lila were with Abba and Jojo, occupying a new bunk bed that Anna had had delivered and assembled the day before.

Dinner came in the form of a massive pizza delivery, and all ten of them piled into the living room for the noisiest, happiest feast of their lives. It was a mountain of pizza boxes, a crowd of smiling faces, a chorus of excited chatter and laughter, and greasy fingers on the furniture, and it was perfect.

The kids were sufficiently worn out by the chaos of it all that it was surprisingly easy to put them all to bed — the fact that they all had new roommates and there was plenty of potential for secret late-night gossip and blanket-fort shenanigans was probably also a factor in their willingness to cooperate. Tyler and Otis were somewhat bewildered when all four adults rather than just their own parents decided to hug them goodnight, but the twins were delighted by the extra attention, and Lily even went so far as to declare “We have two moms and two dads now!”, inspiring a series of warm glances between the adults in the room.

When the main lights were off and the night-lights were on, Mike, Chester, Anna and Talinda retreated towards their rooms, feeling full to the brim with love and happiness. The Benningtons came to a halt outside the spare, but Mike and Anna ushered them past the open door and into the master bedroom, where they all piled into the bed, laughing like children.

“We’re going to need a bigger bed,” said Mike, making himself comfortable between Anna and Chester. Talinda, who was snuggled up against Chester’s other side, said “We might have to get one custom made. I don’t think the standard sizes are much bigger than this one.” She sounded completely serious — more serious than Mike had been. Anna leaned forward to look at her.

“You really want to share a bed with all of us? Like… routinely?”

Talinda shrugged. “I mean… It would be nice to have the option,” she said. “I know I was the weak link, before—”

“That’s not true—” Mike began, but Talinda cut him off.

“Hear me out,” she said. “I was the one who wasn’t sure. I was awkward after that night. But I’ve been thinking about it and unpacking it in my head and I know that a lot of it is to do with anxieties and things about myself that I want to work on because they’re barriers to my happiness. I’m learning. I’m growing. I’m working on being more comfortable in my own skin. And yeah, maybe sometimes I’ll want to share a bed with just Chester or with just… one person. I mean, sometimes I want to have a bed all to myself. That’s just how I am. But I also want this.”

Chester drew her tightly against him with both arms.

“We’re just glad to have you in the same house as us, no matter what the bed situation is,” said Mike.

“And if anything ever makes you uncomfortable — and the same goes for any of us — we need to talk about it,” said Anna. “Open, honest, understanding. That’s what this needs to be.”

“Yeah,” said Chester. “Anna’s right.”

“Anna’s always right,” said Talinda.

“Can confirm,” said Mike, kissing Anna on the forehead.

They lay in silence then, staring up at the ceiling, each lost in their own thoughts, imagining the possible futures ahead of them now that they’d opened the door to togetherness in all its unconventional and complicated glory.

It was Chester who broke the silence.

“So uh… I don’t know if it’s appropriate after that little heart-to-heart, but you said that honesty is the best policy, so I’m just going to come out and say it: I’m horny as fuck.”

Talinda burst out laughing and shoved Chester playfully against Mike, who took him happily into his arms and smothered his face in kisses.

“I’m sure we can help you out with that,” he said. He looked over at Talinda for approval, but found that her eyes were focused on Anna, so he pulled Chester back against himself and pressed his open mouth against his lips. He felt Anna’s lips against his neck and saw Talinda mirroring Anna’s actions on Chester and a pleasant shiver ran down the entire length of his body.

Mike reached up to stroke his fingers along Chester’s shaven head, and then allowed his hand to continue until it reached Talinda’s silky hair, and he curled a lock of it around his index finger. Chester, meanwhile, ran his hand up and down Mike’s side until he found Anna’s hand there doing the same thing, and laced his fingers together with hers.

They all drew themselves and each other closer and closer together, legs interlacing, arms curling over one another, pulses speeding up, pyjamas being discarded and warmth rising between them as lips ventured across heated skin, tongues slid against one another, fingertips traced the lines of various bodies, teasing nipples, tracing tattoos, traversing hip bones…

As Mike and Talinda licked and sucked their way along Chester’s neck, Chester found his eyes locked with Anna’s. She was smiling at him with such warmth and joy and love and, with a burst of intense clarity, Chester realised that, just then, he wanted her the most. She had, more than anyone else, laid the foundations for this unprecedented and wonderful situation that they all found themselves in, and in this moment of sexual abandon, his gratitude had taken the form of a deep physical longing that he would never have allowed himself to feel in any other situation. His mind straying back to their kiss in the coffee shop, he reached for her and Mike, reading and understanding the action, rolled himself gently over Chester’s body so that Chester could be close to Anna.

Mike, meanwhile, folded Talinda into his arms and felt her melt into his embrace, her hands immediately sliding around his back and inching their way down, tentatively at first and then with growing confidence, pressing and massaging his skin, following the line of his backbone and then gliding triumphantly onto his backside to administer a cheeky squeeze. He felt her chuckling lightly against his chest and buried his face in her dark, luxuriant hair. He rolled onto his back, pulling her gently on top of him and holding her tightly as he turned his head to the side to see what Chester and his wife were up to, unable to ignore his curiosity.

The sight of them together made Mike’s heart skip a beat and a strange, powerful feeling rise within him — a mixture of love and lust that was equal parts tender and frantic. It struck him how similar the two of them looked — both pale, dark-eyed and small in stature; both somewhat elven in appearance; both innocently cute with a distinctly devious, kinky streak about them. For a fleeting moment, Mike thought they almost looked like siblings, but he quickly pushed that thought aside, given its inappropriateness in the current situation… the situation being that Anna’s milky white legs had parted beneath Chester’s body and he was slowly, gently easing himself into her, while his lips pressed tiny kisses onto her face and his fingers brushed her short dark hair away from her eyes; eyes that were locked onto him, full of emotion.

Mike realised that Talinda was watching them too when he heard her breath catch in her throat, and he looked up into her beautiful face and saw shyness there, but also bravery, and determination, and love, and desire, and the next thing he knew, she was shifting on top of him, folding her legs to either side of him, reaching between their bodies with her delicate fingers, and then he was slipping inside of her and warmth gushed through him, starting at his dick and rapidly engulfing his entire body.

“Fuck…” he breathed, taking hold of her slender body and tumbling them over so that both he and Chester were taking each others’ wives in missionary, side by side. Anna’s hand found Talinda’s and they gasped in unison as Mike and Chester fell into a mesmerising rhythm, matching each other thrust for thrust. It was synchronised lovemaking, the tameness of the missionary position counterbalanced by the fact that they’d switched partners and were sharing a bed, the strangeness and enormity of the act not lost on any of them.

Anna cleaved herself to Chester, arching against him and wrapping her pale, slender legs around his back, her free hand curled around the back of his neck to stabilise the hot, wet kisses they shared as he moved deep inside of her. Chester was surprised when he felt Anna begin to come, without any external stimulation. She gripped her legs tighter around him and gasped as he pushed himself faster and deeper, his body relishing the tremors within her. When he came himself, mere moments later, he heard Mike climax at the same time with a shaking, breathless groan of euphoria.

Chester lay, spent, in Anna’s arms and closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself. In the back of his mind, he was assuming that Talinda hadn’t found her release yet, and given the fact that Mike was probably used to a woman who could achieve an orgasm from penetration alone, he might not have even realised this. Chester thought he would need to step in and make sure that the job was done. When he opened his eyes, however, he saw that Mike was taking full responsibility for Talinda’s climax, rubbing her expertly with a slick fingertip, kissing his way across her breasts while she trembled and threw her head back against the pillows in ecstasy.

“Your wife is so fucking hot,” Anna murmured into Chester’s ear.

“So are you,” he whispered back, pressing his lips to her temple.

Talinda might’ve taken the longest to reach orgasm, but when she came, she came hard, trembling and moaning and gasping for air, her thighs clamping against Mike’s hand while her own hand crushed Anna’s in its intensifying grip. When she eventually descended from her high and opened her eyes, she found herself cradled between the Shinodas, with Chester’s hand reaching over Anna’s body and resting on her stomach, his fingers moving slowly along her familiar faint stretch marks and sending pleasant shivers along her skin.

Bliss. Pure, untainted bliss.

“Okay, here’s a wild idea,” said Chester, after about half an hour of peaceful silence, during which Mike’s eyes had grown increasingly heavy and Talinda had fallen asleep completely. Both of them snapped back into full wakefulness at the sound of Chester’s voice. “We each type our foursome fantasies into a note on a laptop,” Chester was saying. “No handwriting to give away whose is whose. And we have to word it carefully; like we have to refer to each other and ourselves by our first names. You know what I mean. Then we number them and find a way to randomly select one…”

“We can write the numbers down on pieces of paper and draw one out of a hat,” said Anna.

“Perfect,” said Chester.

“And what if it’s a fantasy that one of us doesn’t like?” asked Talinda.

“Well then we scrap it, of course,” said Anna. “We pick one, consider it, vote on it and then, if need be, we pick another one. Or agree on a variation.”

“Exactly,” said Chester.

“Okay,” said Talinda. “Could be fun.”

“Let’s do it now,” said Chester, excitedly.

“Now?” said Mike. “I’m falling asleep here.”

“I don’t mean we have to act out the fantasies now,” Chester laughed. “Just type them out. I want to read them. Might inspire some interesting dreams.”

“You’re ridiculous,” said Mike, but he was up and shambling over to the desk to retrieve his laptop, which he brought back to the bed and handed to Chester before lying back down, beside Anna this time, and pulling the covers part of the way over his body.

“Right,” said Chester, sitting back against the headboard, his face lit up with excitement. “I’m going to type them into a note here and then open up a fresh page so the next person won’t know what I typed. When everyone’s typed a note, I’ll collate them and randomise the order.”

“I don’t know what to type!” said Talinda, sitting up and tossing her hair fretfully over her shoulder.

“Well, then you can go last,” said Chester. “Think of something in the mean time. Anything. Doesn’t matter how weird or how boring you think it might be. Try to think of two things. Yeah, two each. So we’ll have a nice long list. We can pick one and then that can be on the agenda for tomorrow night. Something to look forward to all day.”

When the list was compiled and randomised, Chester pinged it over to each of their phones, which all buzzed and beeped from the bedside table and were quickly seized by eager hands and lifted up to curious eyes…

 

_SHINODA-BENNINGTON FANTASY LIST NUMBER ONE_

 

“Number one?” Mike laughed.

“Yeah,” said Chester. “Once we’ve worked our way through these, we do another list. Obviously.”

Grinning and shaking his head lightly, Mike turned his attention back to the list.

 

_1\. Doggy-style spouse swap. Mike x Talinda, Chester x Anna. T and A facing each other, making out, M and C maintaining eye contact. Possible half-time variation: slip down into double reverse cowgirl._ _2\. Mike in the middle. Chester behind. Either Anna or Talinda in front. Whichever wife is left out of the sandwich calls the shots throughout and gets eaten out by three people afterwards. Switch it up if there’s energy for a round two._ _3\. Anna and Talinda 69. Mike and Chester jack each other off and cum all over them._

 

“Fucking hell,” said Mike. “I don’t know what to say.”

“These are great,” said Anna.

 

_4\. Everyone masturbates and whoever lasts the longest gets breakfast in bed the following morning, made by the other three._

 

“Oh my god, I love number four,” Mike laughed. “Genius.”

 

_5\. Rotating oral. Three on one oral stimulation, working through each of us one at a time. Order to be determined by four-way rock-paper-scissors championship._

_6\. BDSM. Three doms, one sub volunteer (prior discussion NB). Leather, ball gag, cuffs, the works._

_7\. Anna gets DPed while she eats Talinda out. (I feel like I need to take credit for this one even though that’s against the rules. — Anna.)_

_8\. Mike fucks everyone. Sweet and simple._

 

“Anna!” Mike blurted out when he reached number seven. “For real?”

Anna shrugged. “Sure, why not? I bet you were responsible for number eight…”

“Actually, no, I wasn’t,” said Mike, eyeing the Benningtons suspiciously. He was taken aback by Talinda breaking down into a fit of giggles.

“That was me,” she said.

“Hey!” said Chester. “We’re not meant to know!”

“But it’s fun!” said Talinda. “I bet you were number two. And number five.”

“I’m saying nothing!” said Chester. “You’ll never know!”

Anna had started the process of writing the numbers one to eight onto a piece of note paper and tearing each one off into a separate scrap, which she then tossed into a sunhat she retrieved from the stand behind the door.

“Right!” she said presenting the hat to the others. “Who’s going to do the honours?”

“I will,” said Talinda, her voice bubbly and excited. Mike and Anna grinned at one another as Talinda thrust her hand into the hat and drew out one of the scraps of paper with a flourish.

“Number… six! Oh, well, we cant really do that one because we don’t have all the equipment…”

Anna, who had been responsible for number six, took this comment as an indication that Talinda wasn’t particularly keen on the BDSM idea right then, and decided not to tell her that she did, in fact, have leathers, cuffs and a ball gag readily available…

“Pick another one,” said Chester, squeezing Talinda’s shoulder.

“Number… three!” said Talinda. “Hmm. Okay.” She flashed a small, devious look in Anna’s direction. “We can manage this one, I’m sure…”

When the lights were switched off and the duvet cover was pulled up over their snuggled bodies, Anna and Talinda side by side, and Mike and Chester occupying the other half of the bed, they settled once again into a dreamy, peaceful silence— which was once again broken by Chester speaking, only this time, Talinda and Anna were so deeply asleep, wrapped in each others’ arms, that only Mike heard him.

“I think this is going to be amazing,” Chester said. “This whole thing. The four of us, together. I don’t just mean the sex. I mean everything. I think it’s going to work.”

“I think you’re right,” said Mike, running the back of his hand gently down the length of Chester’s arm and taking Chester’s hand in his own. Chester shifted himself closer to Mike and rested his head against his warm solid shoulder, breathing in the familiar smell of him that he could now enjoy up close without any guilt or shame or reservations.

He freed his hand from Mike’s so that he could run his fingertips along Mike’s chest, enjoying the warmth, the smoothness, the softness of his skin. He tilted his head up and pressed a gentle, slow kiss against the pulse in Mike’s neck and said, “I can’t wait for tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that. It’s such a good feeling, to be excited about life.”

 “Oh Ches…” said Mike nuzzling his face against Chester’s fuzzy head. “I’m so glad you feel that way.”

They lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes and Mike was certain that Chester had fallen asleep… but then he shifted slightly and, his voice heavy with sleep, murmured, “I love you” — and Mike wanted to say it back, but a sudden upwelling of emotion had taken his own voice away from him and so he communicated it instead with a tight hug and tender kiss, during which a couple of his tears splashed onto Chester’s cheeks, and Chester’s eyes fluttered open in the darkness. He gazed at Mike with that dark, bottomless gaze of his for a long time before taking Mike’s lips in a kiss so deep and slow and intimate, that Mike knew he would remember it with wonder for the rest of his life.

_I love you too, Chester. I love you too. I love you so much. I can’t wait for tomorrow either._

*****


	20. Cute and Soft

“So you’re living here now,” said Dr Rajiv Khatri, making a brief note in his little notebook. “You and your family.”

“Yes,” said Chester. “We moved in last week.”

“Can you tell me a bit more about that? What brought it on?”

“It felt sort of inevitable,” said Chester. “Like we had been working towards it before any of us even realised what was happening. We all just get along really well. I told you about my relationship with Mike. What I didn’t tell you about was my wife’s relationship with Mike’s wife, and how we’ve been working on all the other relationships too. Connecting with each other. In… every way. You know. Look, I know it sounds fucking crazy—”

Dr Khatri raised his hands and bowed his head, shaking it lightly, a smile spreading across his face. “Just because something is unusual, doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with it,” he said. “When you’ve been in this job for as long as I have, you start to realise that many things we consider to be ‘normal’ are sometimes the most harmful aspects of the world we live in. I’m not here to tell you how to live your life, or to prescribe some sort of doctrine… If something is working for you and it’s not hurting anyone else, who am I to question it? That’s not my job. My job is to give you the tools you need to get you through the rough patches in your life, or to help you to sharpen the tools you already have. And as far as I can tell, you’re on the right track. Could you tell me a bit more about how things have been since we last spoke?”

“Things have been great,” said Chester. “Surreal, almost. I feel like I need to keep pinching myself…”

Mike, who was standing quietly outside the room but to the side of the door so that the therapist wouldn’t catch him out for listening in this time, smiled to himself and sneaked away to wait for Chester’s appointment to end. Anna and Talinda had taken the kids to school and then gone out together for “a walk, a light lunch, maybe a bit of shopping”, leaving him and Chester to enjoy the day together before and after Chester’s appointment.

To Mike’s relief, the appointment was relatively brief, and he was pleased to see that the therapist looked satisfied and unconcerned when he bid them farewell.

“Was it okay?” he asked Chester.

“Yeah,” Chester smiled. “I kind of, uhh… told him stuff. About our situation.”

“You have to tell him stuff. That’s the whole point,” Mike laughed, seeing the awkward look on Chester’s face. “How did he react?”

“He’s so chilled about it. He’s a really great guy. I think he’s seen it all. He never makes me feel weird about anything.”

They ambled out to the back of the house as they spoke and sat down in the late morning summer sunshine on the porch bench, which was strewn with soft cushions. Chester immediately rested his head on Mike’s shoulder.

“Do you think it’s helping?” Mike asked gently, running his hand along Chester’s thigh, part of which was left exposed by the not-quite-knee-length linen shorts he was wearing.

“Yeah,” said Chester. “I think it is. All of this is helping. I’m feeling good, in general. I’m still scared, though. Every now and then.”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. Like… Right here and now, I can’t imagine wanting to die. I can’t put myself into the headspace of the person I was that night. But… but I know that was me. I can’t pretend that wasn’t me. I can’t pretend that I’m not capable of that sort of thinking. I’m scared of slipping and failing. Everything is so wonderful right now. I’m scared of losing it.”

“Ches…” Mike said, putting and arm around him and drawing him closer. “It’s okay to be scared. Just talk to me, or to any one of us, as soon as you start feeling that way. We’re here for you. I’m here for you.”

Mike rested his cheek against Chester’s hair. Chester hadn’t shaved it in a few weeks and it was already noticeably longer and thicker than it had been in a while. Mike rubbed his face lazily against it, enjoying its softness.

“Did you ask him about the tour?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said Chester. “I did. He thinks it’s fine for me to go back on the road. He said he’s especially at ease about it because he knows you’ll be there with me.”

“Aww!” Mike gushed. “He did not say that!”

“He did! I swear! He’s the sweetest. He gets it. I want him to be my therapist forever. Actually, I want him to be my uncle so I can invite him to Christmas dinner. Anyway, he suggested I get you to call him about it.”

“Why?”

“I suppose so that he can give you some tips on preventing me going nuts and killing myself in the bus.”

“Don’t joke about that shit, Ches.”

“Sorry,” Chester mumbled, pressing his face harder into Mike’s shoulder. “It’s like this big, cold, serious thing sitting next to me all the time. I just… I want it to fuck off.”

“You can’t joke it away though. It’s not a joke.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, Ches. It’s just… Ugh.” Mike shook him gently from side to side and kissed his head. “You scared me, you know? You scared me so much. And I can’t laugh about that. I just can’t.”

“I know.”

“So when do you want to go back on tour?” Mike asked, infusing his voice with casual lightness, trying to steer the conversation back into a happy place.

“As soon as possible, I guess,” said Chester. “I’m looking forward to being with you on the road, you know, now that we’re…”

“Yeah.”

“It’s going to be interesting.”

Mike smiled. “It certainly will be.”

“We need to make sure we finish off the fantasy list before we go, though. It shouldn’t be a problem. We’ve done half of them.”

“We didn’t do them all properly though,” said Mike. “Like the BDSM one was a shitshow.”

Chester snorted with laughter. “They’re just suggestions, Mike! Inspirational starting points! And I had no problem with the way that one turned out in the end…”

“Well, of course you didn’t! You can come just by thinking about it. I need to be a little bit more involved. Don’t get me wrong, I was enjoying watching them make out in those stupid outfits, but I don’t feel like we really ticked that one off the list.”

Chester shrugged. “You reckon they’ll get the leather things out again when we’re on the road?”

“Oh I have no fucking doubt about it,” said Mike. “Anna has fully corrupted your wife.”

“Fine by me,” said Chester. “Maybe they can Skype us while we’re away. You know. Give us a show.”

“Chester!”

“What? It was just a thought,” he said, digging his fingertips into Mike’s ribs and tickling him, making him squirm and writhe against him. “But I suppose you won’t need any of that. You’ll have me. I’m plenty all on my own, aren’t I?”

“Ye… Yes!” Mike gasped, tears of laughter leaking out of his eyes as he pushed Chester’s hands away. “You are. You’re plenty. You’re a fucking handful.”

At that, one of Chester’s hands darted between Mike’s legs and seized him boldly by the crotch before he said, in a low and suggestive tone of voice, “No, you’re a fucking handful.”

Mike caught the look in his eyes, felt a shiver run through him and leaned forward, nuzzling his lips and nose against Chester’s for a moment, waiting for him to part his lips before tilting his head and delving into his mouth with his tongue, bringing his hands up to hold his head.

“Nnngggh,” was all that Chester could say through the heated back-and-forth exchange of tongues as Mike pushed him down slowly onto his back, pulling one of his tattooed legs up and wrapping it around himself. The sudden sexual energy crackled between them and Mike felt the warm pull in his groin as Chester pressed up against him, but he wasn’t interested in sex right at that moment. All he wanted was this kiss — this deep, wet, delicious kiss. Chester was breathing heavily through his nose, as eager as Mike not to separate their lips. Their tongues were settling into a rhythm, dipping into each others’ mouths, gliding along the length of each other, tasting, exploring, caressing, lips rubbed red and swollen and slick with saliva.

Chester’s hands were in Mike’s hair, curling it between his fingers, tugging gently on it and thoroughly messing it up, sending waves of shivers through Mike’s entire body as they made love with their mouths, the sunny day melting brightly around them as they grew lightheaded with the breathlessness of it all.

When finally Mike drew back to let them breathe, he immediately had the wind knocked out of him again by the look on Chester’s face: eyelids heavy over dark, lazily twinkling eyes, those perfect little lips turned up in a small, knowing smile, his skin so flushed that even his ears were pink.

“Fuck, I love you,” said Mike, choking the words out as he brought their lips back together, kissing and nipping until Chester’s arms tightened around him, bringing him down, pulling Mike’s face against his neck. Warm, freshly shaven, fragrant with a clean-smelling cologne… Mike rubbed his face hungrily against the skin, breathing Chester in with shuddering breaths.

“Mike,” Chester murmured.

“Mmm?” came Mike’s muffled reply.

“Imagine doing this on the tour bus when everyone else is asleep.”

“Unnngh,” said Mike. “Can we?”

“Yes please,” said Chester. “You know I fucking hate the bus. This would help.”

Mike trailed a hand along Chester’s body, bringing it up to his face, cupping his jaw, fingertips twiddling the plug in his ear, thumb stroking slowly across his cheek.

“I like your face,” he mumbled. “You're so cute and soft.”

“Like a worn-out old leather boot,” said Chester.

“Yeah, just like that,” said Mike. “If an old boot could be expressive and adorable.”

“Well, all of _my_ old boots are expressive and adorable, so…”

Mike closed his eyes, pressing his face in closer against Chester’s neck. “You talk so much shit,” he said, his breath triggering a rush of goosebumps across Chester’s skin. “Seriously, you're such a dumbass.” He planted a series of tiny kisses along Chester’s throat in between the casual insults. “You’re basically the most ridiculous middle-aged man in the world.”

“And I’m balding,” said Chester, squeezing him tightly. “And I have terrible eyesight. And a big nose.”

“Yep,” said Mike, trailing his lips up towards Chester’s ear and nibbling on it. “All true.”

“And like disproportionately tiny hands,” said Chester, lifting one of Mike’s hands and measuring their fingers against each other. “And chewed up fingernails.”

“Mmm hmm,” said Mike, kissing his way across Chester’s cheek and finding his lips again, but before he sank back into a kiss, he looked Chester straight in the eye and said, “You’re the most beautiful man in the world. And I’m glad that you’re alive. And I’d like you to stay that way. Okay?”

“Okay,” Chester breathed, his face flushing all over again as their lips parted and came together slowly. His hand came up to stroke Mike’s face, following his beard along his jaw, fingers feeling their way onto his chin and then down his neck, then all the way back up to glide into his lush, dark silky hair, which was falling over his face now.

“You’re pretty cute and soft yourself,” said Chester when they separated for air, and Mike smiled down, raising his eyebrows.

“Like a worn-out old leather boot?” he asked.

“Yeah, just like that,” said Chester, grinning up at him.

*****


End file.
